


The Boy From New York City

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Romance, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-24
Updated: 2008-04-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 13:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 25,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Basically, imagine that Brian really did go to New York for that job, and never talked to Justin again. Or did he...?





	1. Goodbye to the Pitts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

"In a year, probably not even that long, you won't even remember my name." 

Brian was fucking sick of this. Sure, the kid was only 18, but he was still being ridiculous. Did he really think that Brian was going to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime for some blonde boy ass?  Still, there was something in Justin's hurt gaze that stung to look at. When it came right down to it, Justin really was the hardest person to leave. Sure, he could come visit Lindsay and Gus, and they'd come visit him, same with the rest of the gang, and they'd talk on the phone all the time, all that. But with Justin...he really didn't plan on seeing him ever again. And as much as he would never admit it, he'd become accustomed to having this irritating, puppy-dog-eyed, albeit gorgeous blonde following him everywhere. Justin had proven how much he really did love Brian, so Brian knew how much this must be hurting him. But he also knew that this was just as much for Justin's good as it was for his own. He couldn't go on admiring Brian, the world's biggest fuck-up. He needed to find someone better. He told Justin this, in not so many words, some spiel about not looking back. But when Justin looked at him, unabashedly, with tears in his eyes...that look...it was the one thing that made Brian want to take his loft off the market and stay put. But then he'd have to ask himself why. And then he'd have to own up to the nervous feeling he got in his stomach when Justin told him, or showed him, just how much he loved him.

    There were still a couple of weeks before he left, in which he "celebrated" his 30th birthday, went to Babylon, finished up the leftover work at Vangard, hung out at the diner, and fucked Justin a couple more times. He had planned on spending his last night holed up in his precious loft, drinking Jim Beam, jacking off and looking out the window at his spectacular view of Pittsburgh. 

    He slid the door open to his bare apartment. The movers had come and gone, with all of his furniture and belongings, except for the bed linens that were still on his bed, a bottle of beam...

And a certain blonde twinky sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Brian said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"You honestly thought that I was going to let you leave here and shatter my heart into a million pieces without at least a goodbye fuck?" Justin smiled bitterly.

"Justin, go home." 

"No fucking way! Look at it this way: I'm going to be that kid who always for the rest of my life remembers you as my first love, and I could either vaguely remember the dozens of times we fucked after eating chinese takeout, or..." Justin crept sultrily up to Brian and stroked his chest, his lips almost touching Brian's chin. "...I could always remember that one amazing night before he left where he fucked my brains out until I passed out, on the floor of his empty loft, thus giving me the best orgasm of my life and nothing will never quite measure up, and-" 

Brian captured Justin's lips gently but firmly with his own, his hand cupping the side of Justin's face, the other one around his waist, holding Justin's hips to his own. Goddammit, if he only had one more opportunity to use the world's most perfect lips to his advantage, he was going to make the most of it. Justin kissed him back with everything he had, trying to hold onto as much of this beautiful man as he could. Brian figured, what's the point of holding back if he would never see the boy again. And then there was that sting again, that he stifled every time he had that thought. He would never see this boy again. He stopped kissing him for a moment, his eyes still closed, slightly panting for breath. "Justin..." Justin opened his eyes and looked at him for a moment. There was something in Brian's voice that wasn't familiar. Something less hostile. But he didn't say anything more, he just kissed him harder, and they moved to the floor.  


	2. The Last Memory

Everything was intensified by about a million. Brian ferociously grabbed every inch of Justin that he could, and hastily removed his shirt and kissed, sucked and bit at his collarbone. Justin grabbed at the hem of Brian's shirt and pulled it over his head, his talented hands grazing the tanned skin. He felt like he was going to scream. He could barely take the attack that Brian was delivering, but he knew he didn't want it to stop. He grabbed the back of Brian's neck, and breathed his name before Brian kissed him violently, crushing his lips and pushing him backwards onto the floor. Justin lifted his hips off the floor and fished a condom and packet of lube out of his back pocket, as Brian growled and slid off Justin's jeans, revealing the most perfect young cock. Brian knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. He left fast, wet kisses all down Justin's torso, before licking up Justin's firm shaft, and swallowing it whole. 

"God, Brian!" Justin let out a frustrated cry, panting for breath. Brian swallowed Justin again and again, while preparing Justin's hole with one hand and running his other up Justin's torso. Justin grabbed onto Brian's hand as he threw his head back and gasped for breath. Brian rolled the condom on, stopped blowing Justin and lifted his legs up to place on his shoulders, positioning his impatient cock at Justin's hole. He stopped and looked Justin in the eye, waiting for him to let him know it was ok. Justin stared right back into his eyes, and placed his hand on the side of Brian's neck, his thumb running across Brian's jaw. He had stopped writhing and moaning in pleasure and impatience, and Brian couldn't decipher the look on his face. It was love and understanding, but mixed with some of the most raw sorrow he'd ever seen.

"Do it." The corners of Justin's mouth tugged up in a small smile for a moment. Brian couldn't believe it, but he almost felt a bit nervous, and hesitant to begin, because if it began, it meant that the end was really going to come. Then he realized that that was probably the most lame, lesbianic thought he'd ever had. So he pushed in slowly past the first ring of muscle. Justin kept his eyes locked on Brian's, trying to fix this memory exactly in his mind forever. He was trying to hold on to some of this feeling because he knew it was probably the last he'd get for a long time, possibly ever. He could tell that there was something different about this time from the rest. Something so much more honest. Brian kept looking him right in the eye as he slowly moved inside him, and gradually sped up. Justin had to break his gaze when he felt the burn in his abdomen intensifying. Brian dropped his head to Justin's chest and let out a groan as he pumped desperately into Justin. As he smelled the familiar scent of Justin's skin, not recognizable as anything but Justin, and it hit him just how familiar that scent was, he realized that on a daily basis, he could never go to sleep without fucking Justin first. There had even been occurrences while Justin didn't live in the loft where Brian had driven to Deb's house and crept into Justin's room at 2 or 3 a.m. just because he knew he had a business meeting in the morning and needed to sleep. He wondered how he was going to get any sleep in New York, and hoped to whoever that it was an "out of sight, out of mind" kind of deal. Justin jerked him out of his train of thought with a strangled cry, his fingers intertwined in Brian's hair. Brian let out an "Oh God" and gripped the back of Justin's shoulders and heaved Justin onto him, as the two of them moaned and grunted and whimpered and panted. Every touch of skin was like an electric shock, so much more than it had been before. Then, as they both almost dreaded, the electricity spread to their abdomens as they felt their orgasms approach. It was so close to being over, over forever. But it had to be over sometime, and neither of them knew how much longer they could last, so finally Brian let out a yell that shook the rafters and exploded into Justin, panting for breath, and Justin came screaming seconds after Brian. Brian collapsed on top of Justin, and Justin wrapped his arms around Brian's back. Their minds were a cloudy mess and sparks fizzled behind their eyelids as they fought for their breath. They lay there in silence, not particularly wanting to move. After a moment, Brian lifted his head to look at Justin. He was trying to steady his breath, and there were tears shimmering in his intensely blue eyes. He saw Brian looking at him, and turned his head away. 

"I'm sorry, I know, I'm such a little faggot." he said, brushing his tears away. Brian shook his head and sighed. 

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," he whispered in Justin's ear, "A year from now, I'll probably still remember your name." 

Justin let out a faint chuckle. Brian pulled out of him, and walked to the bathroom, pulling off and tying the condom as he went. Justin heard him flush the condom, and a couple of seconds later, Brian's head poked through the doorway. 

"Shower?" 

Justin took the invitation, peeling himself off the floor.

Brian was already in the shower when Justin opened the door and walked in. Brian looked at him for a moment, then squirted some shampoo into his hand, and grabbed Justin's head, lathering it into his hair carefully. Justin looked into his eyes as he washed Justin's hair, trying to keep as much of this moment as he could. Brian's hands trailed the shampoo down Justin's chest, washing away the cum splattered across it, then smirked as he washed a bit of it off of Justin's cheek. After all, the kid was only 18. Justin grabbed the bar of soap and rubbed it across Brian's chest as he stepped into the stream of the shower to rinse himself off. They rotated so that Brian was in the stream, and then Justin grabbed the shampoo and lathered Brian up. He forced himself to hold back yet more tears as he ran his hands through Brian's wet hair. Brian grabbed Justin's hands to stop him and looked into his eyes. Justin's lip was quivering. Brian didn't even think about it, he just had to stop it. He bent down and kissed him gently, with everything he had in him, to try and make Justin stop. It seemed like it just made it worse. Justin pulled away and took a deep breath to calm himself, then looked at Brian again and kissed him. Brian savoured those lips, knowing it would be the last time he'd kiss them. He told himself he didn't really care. They were just nice lips, that's all. And skin. and hair. And eyes...voice...smile...He broke the kiss and looked into Justin's glassy eyes. He ran his hand over Justin's cheek, and held him. Justin returned a bone-crushing hug, and buried his face in Brian's shoulder, and Brian could barely distinguish the hot water from the shower from the hot tears flowing down his shoulder that Justin had stopped trying to fight. Eventually, his tears subsided, and they stood for a few more moments holding each other, Brian overcome with the need to comfort the young blonde. After a few minutes, Brian reached over and turned off the shower. 

"Come on.' 

He walked out of the shower and took the one towel hanging on the rack and began to dry himself off. Justin walked out behind him, and Brian turned and dried off Justin's hair briskly, then handed him the towel. Justin dried himself off as Brian walked back out into the loft. Justin saw him pulling his jeans and T-shirt back on, before grabbing Justin's clothes and bringing them back to the bathroom. He handed Justin his jeans, and Justin reluctantly put them back on. Brian slipped Justin's t-shirt over his head for him, and smoothed out the shoulders, before tugging on the middle of Justin's t-shirt, pulling him back out to the loft. Once they were standing in the middle of the loft, Brian looked at Justin for a moment. Justin could barely breathe. The dread that he'd been feeling since he found out Brian was going to New York was finally coming to a head. Brian kissed him gently, lingering, then pulled back. 

"It's time for you to go now."

"Brian, I could stay the night-"

"No, you couldn't. You need to go now."

Brian gently shoved him towards the door, and slid it open. Justin mouthed words, but couldn't say anything. He placed his hand on Brian's chest, and slid it up to his neck, his cheek, gazing at his cheekbones, his hazel eyes, lips...

"God, I really do love you though." He breathed. He stood up on his toes and kissed Brian's lips. Brian didn't pull away, but he didn't react either. He just stood there, looking at Justin, until he eventually stepped out of the loft, and pulled the door shut. Brian stood there and continued to stare at the door for several minutes. Justin hastily descended the stairs and exited the building, staring up at the windows of the top floor, over which enormous curtains were pulled. He waited until he got in his car and started driving before breaking into queeny sobs, until he had to pull over because he couldn't concentrate on the road, and sobbed harder than he ever had, for God knows how long. Brian finally undressed and got into bed. He couldn't sleep.  



	3. New In Town

Brian lit up a cigarette while he sat in bed, naked. The sandy blonde trick sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his underwear and pants. 

"That was fucking hot." 

Brian said nothing. The trick glanced around awkwardly as he put on his socks. 

"You new in town or something?" 

"How'd you know?" Brian drawled. 

"Well, I saw all the boxes. Where you from?" 

Brian sighed. "Pittsburgh." 

"Wow," the trick smiled. "I bet you're the hottest thing in town down there." 

"Something like that" Brian said, tired of the small talk.

"I guess back there you were a big fish in a small pond. I got news for you, bud, New York's the fucking ocean. So don't expect that kind of treatment here." 

"Fuck you." 

The trick laughed. "I think you've done enough of that for the both of us. And by the way, my name's Jason." 

"Why the hell should I care?" Brian spat.

"Well, 'cause when we were fucking you called me Justin. It's Jason. I told you in the bar." 

Brian stared into the empty apartment. Fuck. 

"I guess I must have misheard you. You can let yourself out." 

"Can I at least use your shower?" The trick said incredulously.

"I'm assuming you have a perfectly good one at home. Bye."

The trick glared at Brian. "Asshole." he muttered. Brian smirked. Once the trick left, Brian got up and stood at his window, onto the streets packed with people, businessmen, model/actor/waiters, tourists, and tried not to think about when the last time was that he felt this alone. 


	4. The Art Show

  
Author's notes: Sorry that this is the last chapter that's been put up. I've written about 14 more chapters, but the site hasn't updated my story for some reason. There's a good chance this message might not even be seen until the story's updated anyway, but just in case, my sincerest apologies.  


* * *

The brush ran roughly over the canvas as Justin did his best to capture the penetrating stare of those hazel eyes. It had been almost two years since he had stared into them. Justin's brow furrowed as he swept dark brown paint over the two-dimensional man's forehead, signifying dripping wet hair. It had been this long, and his chest still ached. Painting, drawing him, sketching him was the only release. It wasn't that it made the pain go away, but it faced it head on so it wasn't buried in the back of his brain. He painted a blue haze over the rest of the canvas, revealing only the gorgeous eyes, parted lips and soaking hair. He watched it as it dried, wondering how he was going to live the rest of his life like this. When he was bashed, his first thought was that the only thing that could make him better was being touched by Brian. But Brian was in some other world, where he'd stopped thinking of Justin probably the moment he stepped on the plane. 

_From where you are_   
_To where I am now_   
_Is its own galaxy_

He couldn't count the number of times he'd thought about hopping a plane to New York and finding Brian. But he wouldn't even know where to start, and besides, Brian wouldn't want to see him. That was the part that had made him lose sleep, to soak his pillow with tears night after night until it regressed to simply lying in bed staring emptily at the ceiling. 

He had to pick out paintings for his next exhibition. There were going to be dealers at this particular one, so he had to make sure he picked his best. 

Justin sipped a glass of shitty wine while he stared at his work in the echoey white room, dozens of homos and lesbians milling around in black turtlenecks and scarves. He was lost in thought until he noticed someone standing beside him. 

"There's something in those eyes...they're so..."

The man turned to look at Justin, who turned to look at him. This young man was one of the most gorgeous things Justin had seen in a long time. His hair was auburn, his cheeks rosy and his eyes an impossible shade of green. Justin felt a blush creeping up his neck.

"hurt." 

Justin thought about his comment as the handsome young man continued. 

"Man, I'd love to meet the guy who did all these." He read the caption under the painting. "Justin...Taylor." He shook his head. "They're just so..sexy. And honest. You know?" 

Justin suppressed a grin. "Yeah, I guess they're ok." 

"Ok?! They're-"

Just then, Lindsay interjected, carrying her own glass of white wine. 

"Justin, there are some buyers looking at your work, would you like to come talk to them?" 

Justin blushed even more. "Yeah, sure, just gimme a minute, Linds." The young brunette stared in awe at Justin, who eventually had to look back at him. 

"And here I thought I was just hitting on some random gorgeous blonde in an art show." 

Justin grinned from ear to ear. "Well, I guess now you know my secret identity." 

The young man held out his hand. "Charlie." 

Justin took it. "Justin." 


	5. Garden of Eden

He browsed the bins full of fruit, picking up a pomegranate and inspecting it before he put it into his basket. He was in his favourite organic gourmet grocery store in the Upper West Side, Garden of Eden. He placed an avocado into his basket, and headed over to the specialty cheeses. Browsing gruyere, he looked up to see a rather attractive redheaded woman giving him a coy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He smirked and fought off a chuckle, returning a pleasant and somewhat suggestive smile, before walking away. "Might as well give her a bit of a self-esteem boost. Least I can do", he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blonde hair, and quickly turned to look. It was just some twenty-something year old buying greek salad. This had become an almost daily ritual, turning at every glimpse of short, golden blonde hair. It made him feel like such a dyke, but he couldn't help it. He just told himself that there were a lot of people in New York that looked like the kid. Even if he did run into the him, who knows whether or not he would even recognize him. After all, it had been two years. For all he knew, the kid could be a morbidly obese brunette. He doubted that, though, since the kid could eat anything without gaining an ounce, and he'd have to be crazy to dye that gorgeous hair. Nonetheless, Justin had faded into a hazy image in Brian's head. He couldn't even really picture him anymore, just a vague memory of soft, blonde hair and a blinding smile. Brian kept him in his mind since there really hadn't been a fuck like him in a long time. He had fucked the most gorgeous guys in New York, aspiring or even accomplished male models, who could do incredible things with their tongues or whatever, but nobody had made him come so hard, so impossibly hard or so often. Nobody else drove every other thought out of his head while they were together. Sometimes still, Brian wished that he could just fuck him one more time. He just knew there had never been anything like it, and something in the back of his mind told him it wasn't just the fucking.

He realized that he'd been standing holding the cheese for about 5 minutes without moving. The cashier was giving him a funny look. He shook his head, trying to physically remove the thoughts from his mind, and proceeded towards the checkout.  


	6. Meteors and Juice Boxes

"A date?!?!" Debbie shrieked in glee. Justin put his head in his hands, blushing. 

"Deb, please." He glanced around the crowded diner, at the handful of homos who were now listening intently. 

"Well it's about time you got back out there, sweetie!" Emmett squeezed his shoulder. 

"So come on, give me the dish, what's his name?" Deb grinned ear to ear and settled herself down on the stool next to him. Justin shook his head, smiling. 

"Charlie. He's an art major at PIFA, he's a photographer."

"Oooh!" Debbie squealed, "Sounds so mysterious!" 

"So," Emmett said excitedly, "The date's tonight. Where is he taking you?" 

"I don't know!" Justin squirmed shyly. "All I know is he's picking me up at 11." 

"Eleven PM??" Debbie asked incredulously.

"Yes! He said there was a reason, but he wouldn't say what it was." 

"Sounds sketchy." Emmett frowned. 

"Yeah, well, I have to get to class" Justin got up, checking his watch. "I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow." 

"Damn well better!" Debbie said, pointing a finger at him as he exited the diner. 

 

* * * 

 

"So where are we going exactly?" Justin said uneasily as Charlie took him by the hand to his beat-up old car. 

"Do you follow astrology at all, Justin?" Charlie said, dragging Justin out to the street. 

"You mean like horoscopes? I'm a Pisces, if you were wondering." 

"I'm a Libra. But that's not the point. Just trust me, ok? It'll be awesome. Or, it'll be completely lame and make me look like the world's biggest dork, the prospect of which terrifies me to no end because I really want you to think I'm cool," He blurted out as he opened Justin's door for him. Justin laughed. 

"I think you're cool." 

Charlie smiled. "Wicked." 

They drove for an impossibly long time, talking about where they grew up, discovering they had the same teacher for grade 6 math at different times, Justin's pleas to figure out where they were going mixed into the conversation. Finally, they pulled up at the edge of a forest, and Charlie stopped the car and got out. 

"Here??" Justin said incredulously. 

"Yeah. Just bear with me here" Charlie said, pulling a backpack and a sleeping bag out of the trunk. 

"You do realize how incriminatingly sketchy this looks on your part, right?" 

"Yeah, I was hoping you might be able to overlook that. Probably a little too optimistic." He shrugged. Justin laughed nervously. Charlie turned to him, and put his hand on Justin's shoulder. 

"So, from this point on, I'm gonna ask you to believe that I'm a gentleman, and that you can completely trust me. Do you trust me?" he asked, looking Justin in the eye. Justin nodded.

"I trust you." 

Charlie smiled, still looking into Justin's eyes. "Good." He turned and started walking into the forest, Justin following behind him.

"Plus, I've got pepper spray on my keychain just in case." Justin added. Charlie laughed. 

"So now I really have to be on my best behaviour." 

"Mmhmm." 

They walked through the forest, climbing over rotting tree trunks, Charlie wielding a flashlight, until they reached a clearing. It was a circular meadow filled with flowers closed up for the night, the grass covered in dew. Charlie unrolled the sleeping bag and laid it on the ground. He gestured to the sleeping bag. 

"Have a seat." 

Justin sat down tentatively, still completely baffled as to what this charming weirdo was planning. Charlie sat next to him, rifled through the backpack and pulled out two juiceboxes. 

"Strawberry Kiwi or Apple?" 

Justin grinned. "Um...Strawberry Kiwi." 

"Awesome, apple's my favourite. Lay back." 

"What?"

Charlie lightly pushed Justin onto his back. "Charlie, what're you-" 

"Relax, relax. Do you honestly think I brought you out this far just to make a move on you?" Charlie laid beside him, so they were both on their backs, looking up at the sky. 

"Ok, so what exactly are we-" 

"Just wait for it."

Charlie checked his watch periodically between the silences. "Wait for it..."

After a couple of minutes, Charlie suddenly pointed to the sky. "Look!" 

A burst of light streaked past. And then another. "Oh my God!" Justin exclaimed, laughing. 

"It's a meteor shower." Charlie explained. 

"I can see that." 

"I looked it up and it said it would begin at 11:56 and last for 10 minutes, but it's not visible through the smog in the city." He sat up and dug through his bag again, this time pulling out a fancy-looking camera. He laid back down and started clicking away at the sky. 

"I'm working on my portfolio for the end of the year." he explained. Justin just stared up at the sky in amazement, his face plastered in a gentle, distant smile. Charlie looked at him, and turned and snapped a picture of him. Justin, startled out of his daze, looked at him. 

"Sorry, it's just, the look in your eyes, with the moonlight and everything, it was just..." He trailed off, looking into Justin's eyes. "...inspiring."

Justin grinned ear-to-ear, staring at Charlie. Charlie looked back, a similar look on his face, before putting the cap back on his camera, and laying back down next to Justin. After a moment of silence, Justin let out a faint chuckle. Charlie reciprocated the shy laugh. 

"You sure are a smooth talker, Charlie." Justin said, smiling. 

"Well, I do my best." 

Justin tentatively moved his hand towards Charlie's, before taking the plunge and taking it in his. They laid there for a minute, holding hands, before Charlie rolled over and hurriedly planted a soft kiss on Justin's cheek. Justin smiled and, before Charlie had a chance to roll back onto his back, he kissed him, soft and slow. When their lips parted, they hovered close together, eyes still closed. 

"Justin?" Charlie whispered. 

"Yeah." 

"I think my ass is wet."

Justin laughed. "Yeah, mine too." 

"And, I'm kinda cold. You wanna go now?"  


Justin nodded. "Yeah."

"Ok." 

They packed up their stuff in silence, and headed back down to the car. They drove in a comfortable silence, and halfway through the drive, Charlie reached over to hold Justin's hand. 

Once they got back, Charlie walked around to Justin's side of the car, and stood close to him, staring into his eyes. 

"Well, Justin, I had a lovely time staring into the infinite abyss with you."

Justin nodded, supressing a grin. "Thanks. I had a good time." They kissed gently, Charlie's hand resting on Justin's face. Charlie pulled away and gazed into his eyes. 

"Goodnight."

Justin walked up the stairs to his apartment, and as soon as he closed his door, flopped down and swooned like a 14-year-old schoolgirl, grinning harder than he had in years. 


	7. Sunshine and Rain

Brian was smoking a cigarette and looking out his window at the pouring rain, when the hammering on his door started. He thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over to the door and swung it open. There stood Justin, soaked with rain, panting for breath. Brian's heart skipped a beat.  


"I had to see you. I tried, but I can't get you out of my head. I don't know what to do, I just-I had to see you." 

Brian looked at him for a moment, taking in what was really standing before him. Then, he lunged forward, taking Justin into his arms fiercely and claimed those perfect lips as his once more. They both let out sighs and groans as they attacked each other's mouths. Brian felt himself harden instantly, and he peeled Justin's soaking t-shirt off to reveal that perfect ivory skin. He ran his hands across it in adoration, and started kissing and sucking at Justin's neck and chest, causing red marks to rise up on his skin. God, how he missed that smell. He fumbled with Justin's zipper until his pants were completely removed, and Justin did the same to him. They dropped to the floor, too impatient to make it to the bed. Brian was about to plunge into Justin, but held back a moment to admire the most gorgeous face he'd ever seen. He ran his hand down Justin's cheek in wonder. Justin stared back, and smiled a little. 

"Do it" he whispered, his voice full of love. 

But something was holding Brian back. He wanted to go on, but he physically couldn't. Then, the feeling of Justin's skin on his started to fade, and Justin's face turned to one of disappointment. 

"What-no, no-God, wait-"

Justin's features faded in front of him to a vague memory of blond hair and a blinding smile. The room around him started to fade, and he felt like he was suddenly covered in sheets. He opened his eyes and he was lying in his bed, the sun streaming in through the window. He was hard as a rock. He flopped his head back down on his pillow and let out a frustrated sigh. It was the third Justin dream that week. 


	8. New York, New York

"Justin..."

Justin's head lay on Charlie's chest, listening to his heart beat. They had been lying there in their studio apartment, the mattress on the floor, in silence for about 10 minutes now. 

"Yeah Charlie?" 

Charlie was clearly speaking hesitantly. "How much do you love Pittsburgh, like really?" 

Justin frowned. "What kind of a question is that?" 

"Well...you have a lot of your stuff displayed in New York, right?"

"Yyyeah..."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you, say, lived in New York? You could get more exposure, save a lot of cash on FedExing..."

"Charlie, what the fuck are you talking about?" Justin said, raising his head to look at him.

Charlie sighed nervously. "Well, um...remember that guy I worked with over the summer for that feature they were doing on the Pittsburgh Pirates?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how he does work for the New Yorker?" 

"Ok..."

"Well, he got promoted to head of the department, and he...he wants me to apprentice for him in the photojournalism department." 

"OH MY GOD!!!" Justin jumped up and playfully slapped Charlie on the chest. Charlie chuckled. "That's amazing, Charlie, oh my God!" He kissed all over his face ecstatically, before freezing, and flopping back down on the pillow. "So...you want to move to New York?" 

"If I took the job, I'd have to. But I don't know if I could go without you, that's the thing. No pressure." Charlie bit his bottom lip. Justin stared at the ceiling in silence. 

"Justin, I'm just running it by you. You don't have to make any decisions now, and you're not under any pressu-" 

"Ok."

"What?" 

Justin smiled nervously. "Let's...let's do it."

"Wh-wha-are you sure?" Charlie stuttered.

"Yeah, I mean, I do half my shows there and have to turn down so many more because I can't commute...and I've thought about it a million times, and people there urged me to, but I stayed here instead because...well, because of you...Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

Charlie smiled from ear to ear, and Justin shook him lightly by the shoulders, laughing. They laughed together, and kissed, but somewhere in the back of Justin's mind, a ghost was coming back to haunt him, the one that always came to mind when he thought of New York City. 


	9. The Move

It seemed a bit hasty to be moving to another state with someone whom he'd only been dating for a year, but he figured, he loved New York City, he loved Charlie, what was the advantage of staying in Pittsburgh? His mind was buzzing with excitement and apprehension. Charlie had managed to find a place through his new boss, and it seemed that they were all ready to go. Justin had his teary goodbye dinner with the gang, and lunch with his mom and Molly, and before he knew it, he was on a plane to the Big Apple. There was still that one dreading recurring thought he had, the same one he'd had for the past three years, though it had died down and he'd made peace with it when he met Charlie. But in a city with a population of 14 million, what were the chances of running into one person? 

Within the first few weeks, he already felt at home. There was some strange feeling that he was close to home, closer than he'd felt in years. He met with all the owners of art galleries that he'd displayed his work in, who welcomed him to the city and promised him work. He even found a quaint organic gourmet grocery store in the Upper West Side. Best of all, he was sharing a cramped apartment in Hell's Kitchen with the most perfect man. It seemed like for the first time since he could remember, all the odds were in his favour, and nothing could change it. 


	10. October

It had been the longest, rainiest October Brian had ever enountered. His work was going better than ever, and he had recently upgraded his apartment to one not much less fancy than his loft in the Pitts, albeit still considerably smaller. One of the best perks of the city was that it was a lot harder to run out of good fucks. He went out to trendy bars with his work colleagues often, and had even gotten in the goodbooks with his old Italian landlady, who brought him homemade meatballs and lasagna. It wasn't comparable to the family he'd had back home, but they'd come to visit a few times, and corresponded mostly though Mikey on a bi-weekly basis. His habit of glancing at every mop of blond hair had not subsided, but the heart-flutter that coincided with it had died down considerably. Other than the dreams, which never really went away, he barely even thought of Justin. That is, until about a month before.

His work had a banquet to wow some potential clients, and decided to go the classy, haute-couture route by holding it in a modern art gallery with wine and disgusting smelling cheeses. Brian managed to escape the hordes of overweight, accent-sporting southerners from the steakhouse business, and head over to a far wall to study the art. In the top right hand corner of a wall, hung some paintings that seemed to magnetize him. They exuded passion, sex and some sort of light that seemed to emanate from the painting itself. He finally tore his eyes away from the paintings themselves to read the nameplate under one of them. _Justin Taylor.Pittsburgh.2003._ His mind and his heart froze in shock. He looked to the next one. _Justin Taylor.Pittsburgh.2002. Justin Taylor.Pittsburgh.2003._ "Well, I'll be damned," he thought. He couldn't help but try to hold onto what he could from them. These were Justin's thoughts. What he was thinking. His hands had touched these, made these. He thought about buying one, but decided against it. He didn't need to look at it every day. But that was the day that Sunshine finally fought his way back into Brian's head. 


	11. Oh Fuck.

Brian was regretting the seventh double beam from the night before, not to mention the twink who didn't know the meaning of the term "cover your teeth." He was trying to gather together enough consciousness to order a cup of coffee, which was the only thing that could, at the moment, save him from inevitable doom. He had a meeting in an hour. Once he finally received his oversized latté, he blew on it a couple of times before downing about a third of it in one gulp, burning his throat, but nonetheless restoring some of his energy. He already felt considerably better, and resolved that coffee was probably the best invention of mankind. He heard the bell tinkle as someone walked through the door, and saw yet another mop of blonde hair. He glanced over casually, without any hope or expectation. 

Then he did a double take. 

  Oh Fuck. 

***

 

Justin couldn't wake himself up no matter how hard he tried. He had a meeting with a gallery owner, and couldn't rowse himself no matter what he tried. He decided it was probably because he'd been lolling around the apartment, working and eating, and needed to get out and get some excersize. He started walking down 46th, hoping that the cool, crisp, early November air against his face might wake him. He felt compelled to keep walking, and walking, and walking, fully aware of just how far away he was getting from his apartment. After about 30 blocks, he still somehow felt tired. "Well, if walking didn't do it, an espresso should" he thought. He glanced over at the nearest coffee shop, something swanky-looking, with clean lines in its decor. He entered, hearing the quaint jingling of a doorchime, and it seemed out of place in such a high-class establishment. He gave the place a once-over, approving of the fair-trade coffee and stainless steel countertops and cushy velour couches in the corner and the tall brunette in a long black wool coat at the counter downing a latté oh fuck.

Oh Fuck.

***

There was no way that he was really standing there. Just no fucking way. He knew it wasn't a dream, because he didn't look like the 18-year-old boy anymore. He looked different. His hair was slightly longer and he had a bit more bulk to him. Still virtually free of fat, but less gangly, less like a teenage boy. But, he was still sort of the same. Little things stayed the same, things Brian had forgotten about, like the hollows under his cheekbones, or how ridiculously long his eyelashes were. And, the things Brian remembered were the same. Those eyes that had followed him even after he left. The lips that had caused him to wake up hard almost every morning for the past three years. But he was so much more mature, it was obvious. The kid had grown up. Brian didn't want to know what had caused him to grow up as much as he had in such a short amount of time, but he could tell. God, he was so fucking beautiful. Brian stood there, frozen.

***

How was it possible that after the past three years, he was just standing there, holding a cup of coffee, bundled up in a winter coat, no chorus of angels or immaculate light? He was exactly like Justin remembered him, with the exception of a more contemporary haircut and a new coat. Yet, there was something slightly more gentle about his whole demeanor, something a bit more tentative. He was just standing there, and glanced over as the little bell rang, completely disinterested. Then, he turned back again, and the complete and utter shock was readable in his face. It may have been the most obvious emotion he'd ever seen on his face, the only one that hadn't been completely stifled. He was still the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

***

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, frozen, their mouths slightly open in the most paralyzing shock either of them had experienced. There weren't words to begin to say everything that needed to be said. Just...

"...Hey." 

"...Hey."  



	12. Coffee, Art and Awkward-Under-The-Table-Boners.

They stood frozen, staring at each other, each trying to make sure the other man was real. After a moment, Brian muttered, "What the fuck are you doing here?" but not in an accusatory way, merely as a declaration of his complete dumbfoundedness. He had been blindsided, and so had Justin. 

"Um..." Justin fought to regain his ability to speak, and only barely succeeded. "Coffee."  He gestured faintly to the counter. 

Brian smirked. "Well, I managed to piece that much of the puzzle together, genius that I am." 

Justin smiled faintly, but the smile didn't translate into his eyes. 

"Well, you look like you've got somewhere big and important to be" Justin commented resignedly on Brian's stylish suit and tie.

"Yeah, I've got a meeting in an hour with Heartland Steaks." 

"Sounds riveting." Justin smiled a little more convincing. Despite himself, Brian's breath caught in his thoat at the sight of even the smallest of one of Justin's smiles. Brian smiled softly, and gave a head jerk towards a nearby table. "Sit down."

Justin hesitated, then walked towards the table. Brian stepped in front of him. "Get your coffee first." he said in a "duh" kind of tone. Justin laughed lightly at himself, and Brian smiled. Justin went over to the counter while Brian sat himself down at the table and tried to get his head around what was really happening. Before too long, Justin returned with a small cup of coffee. He sat down and let out a sigh. He looked at Brian, who looked right back, and neither one could figure out what to say to the other. They just stared. Justin's mouth curled up at one side and he shook his head incredulously, and let out a baffled chuckle. Brian did the same. 

"Well, what brings you to the Big Apple?" Brian asked, hoping to seem nonchalant, leaning back in his chair. 

"I..well, I live here now." Justin saw Brian's eyebrows perk up for a moment, and he worried that Brian would get ideas or want to meet up. He didn't think he could resist any offer that Brian might give him. 

"Since when?" Brian asked.

"Since...about three months ago."  Justin wrinkled his nose.  Brian couldn't help but think about how fucking adorable that was.  He smirked yet another smirk.

"Wow...art?" Brian assumed. 

"Yeah, pretty much." Justin nodded, smiling faintly. He couldn't believe he was really talking to the man who had become a shadowy figure in his mind over the years. He'd almost forgotten that Brian existed, and wasn't just a dream that haunted him. They stared fixedly into each other's eyes. Justin licked a bit of coffee from his lips, and just the action, and focusing on Justin's lips, made Brian harden instantly. He couldn't remember the last time he was embarrassed of getting a hard-on, and he thanked God that he was sitting at a table. Justin saw the way Brian was looking at him, glancing down to his lips, and he hardened instantly, because even after 3 years, he knew that look. If he had no common sense, he'd drag Brian into the bathroom right now and let him fuck him senseless. Brian broke Justin out of his less-than-Christian thoughts.

"Yeah, um," he said, looking into his coffee," "I noticed some of your stuff a while back, like maybe a month ago."

"Really?" Justin said, surprised. "Where'd you see my stuff?" 

Brian furrowed his brow. "Um, down at the Absynthe, we were having a banquet for my work. Why, where else did you have your stuff during that period of time?" 

Justin blushed. "Ummm...a couple places." 

Brian cocked his head to the side. "How many?" 

Justin grinned sheepishly. "mmmmmmsix." 

"Six??" Brian said incredulously. "That's..." he trailed off, shaking his head. 

"God, I can't believe you saw that stuff" Justin said, shrugging his shoulders up around his eyes and cringing a bit. 

"Why? I mean, you're an artist, that's why you put your stuff in exhibitions, so people will see them, right?" Brian said, sipping his coffee. 

"Well yeah, but I show a lot of stuff in New York, so I show stuff up here that I don't expect people I know to see. And, like, the stuff you saw was practically all about..."  Justin trailed off.  Brian raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Well, just really personal stuff." Brian smirked, cocking one eyebrow. Justin couldn't help but break into a shy grin. Yet another silence passed them by. Somewhere, Real Love by The Beatles started playing. After a moment, Justin realized it was coming from his front pocket. Startled, he pulled out his cellphone and answered it. 

"Hello? Oh, hey...oh, no, I'm fine I just went for a walk...Sorry, I should've let you know...no, no, it's fine...yeah, I will..." he glanced up at Brian. "You too. Bye." 

"Who was that?" Brian asked casually. 

"Um...Charlie." Justin winced inwardly. 

Brian's heart sank. Justin's lack of explanation beyond "Charlie" was all the explanation Brian needed. He'd found someone else. Well, of course he had. Brian nodded. 

"He didn't know where I'd gone, I left the apartment before he woke up and I didn't tell him..." Brian looked away and tried to nod casually. 

"Well, I should probably get back" Justin said, slightly deflated.  They stood up.  Justin walked towards the door.

"Take care of yourself, sunshine." Brian called after him. Justin turned and broke into a full-out sunshine smile, and Brian couldn't help but smile back. 

"You too, Brian." 

Brian watched him walk out the door and down the street, until he'd walked past the shop window and out of sight.  He stood for a moment, dazed, in the café, before stirring himself and exiting, hailing a cab to take him to his office, but the last thing on his mind was steaks. 

Justin waited until he was clearly out of sight, then rounded a corner and leaned against a wall, putting his head in his hands.  "That did not just happen, that did not just happen..." he repeated to himself in his head. He couldn't get back into this, not now, not after how long it took him to get out of it. 

 Neither of them did very well in their meetings that day.                                                                                                                                                                          



	13. Lack Of Concentration

Charlie had noticed that something was on Justin's mind. He had inquired, and Justin told him that it was stress from his upcoming show. Obviously, that was bullshit. Justin couldn't keep Brian out of his mind. He had been completely blindsided, and suddenly it was as if the past 3 years had never happened, and he'd never gotten over him. He'd managed to forget how that man drove him crazy. He kept expecting to see him everywhere he went, and was secretly hoping for it. But he couldn't let that happen, not after how much it hurt to get over Brian the first time.

Brian bombed a pitch. BRIAN. Bombed a PITCH. He'd never bombed a pitch in 8 years. Fucking blonde. Brian wondered how someone could get under his skin like this. That little twat turned him on and invaded his thoughts like nothing else could. He felt like he couldn't concentrate or be satisfied by anything unless he saw the little shit again. He couldn't even proposition the kid because he had a boyfriend. And even if he didn't, he couldn't involve himself in the kid's life, because if he did, he knew he'd never be able to get out.

It was like the big puppetmaster in the sky had dropped him an ironic little plot twist as he mingled through the art department, glancing at the foam core presentation boards of upcoming accounts. One caught his eye, and he thought he recognized the use of colour and the style. Then with a stomach jolt he realized that it was for an art show. Featuring such upcoming contemporary artists as Justin Taylor. Fuck. Now he knew exactly where the kid was going to be on November 2nd. He even had a perfect excuse for going. He tried to convince himself he was blowing it off, but deep down he already knew he was going. 

 

***

Justin hovered around the room, bored out of his mind. Charlie was supposed to be there half an hour before. He didn't really know many people there, and the ones he did know he didn't like. So he picked at the cheese platter and drank flat champagne. After a while, he finally saw Charlie, walking towards him hurriedly, out of breath, but smiling nonetheless. 

Brian stood outside the gallery, kicking himself inside for the pansy-ass nervous feeling he had in his gut. He told himself to be a man, and with what he hoped looked like confidence, he strode into the gallery. It was packed with people who appeared to have an exceedingly high opinion of themselves. After glancing around, he finally found the luminous blonde. He was wearing a knit zip-up charcoal sweater with the collar up, dark blue jeans and black converse sneakers. It was so far off from Brian's sense of style, yet Brian doubted he'd ever seen anything look so good on anyone else in his life. The kid was so fucking gorgeous, it made Brian more scared than he'd ever been. He started to walk over, when he saw a tall, auburn-haired man rush over to Justin and sweep him into a sweet kiss. Brian felt slightly sick. His stomach clenched up into a ball, and he turned away. There was no way he was going over there now, and introducing himself to Justin's lover. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this genuinely sad. He turned to leave, and found himself standing face-to-face with his boss. 

"Kinney! How are you!" the middle-aged breeder said with a garish grin. 

"Just dandy, Bill, and yourself?" Brian faked one of his trademark grins. 

 

***

"What happened? You were supposed to be here an hour ago" Justin said unaccusingly. 

"Oh, we had these child models for our shoot in Central Park, they were completely unmanageable. Kids should not have jobs." 

Justin laughed. "I'm sorry you had such a rough time. But you're here now" He said, sliding a hand up Charlie's neck. 

"Actually...I'm not," Charlie said hesitantly, "The shoot's gonna take another 3 hours, I'm here on my designated 20-minute dinner break. I'm so sorry, Justin."

Justin tried to smile, but his eyes gave away his disappointment. "That's fine, you'll come to the next one. It's just a stupid show anyway, you've seen all the paintings already."

"It's not stupid!" Charlie said forcibly, lightly shaking Justin by the shoulders. "I'll be at the next one, I promise." He kissed Justin gently, and Justin nodded. He watched Charlie walk out, then continued to mill around aimlessly, until something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Wouldn't you know it. Brian Kinney standing, talking to some business-y-looking man. He couldn't help himself. He strode over to where Brian and his associate stood, and Brian finally noticed him standing there. 

"Brian Kinney, as I live and breathe." Justin said, smiling, hoping that he looked nonchalant. 

"I thought I might run into you here" said Brian, giving a genuine Brian Kinney smirk. "Bill, this is Justin Taylor, he's one of the more prominent artists featured in this exhibition." Justin smiled and shook his hand. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bill." 

"The pleasure's all mine," Bill said. "Your work is stunning." 

"Thank you very much" Justin smiled. 

"So, you two know each other, eh? Where from?" Bill inquired politely. 

It would've taken a stainless steel steak knife to cut the tension in that moment. Brian, being completely shameless, wasn't used to feeling devestatingly awkward. There was silence. Then, Brian spoke up, clearing his throat. 

"We knew each other back in Pittsburgh, actually." Brian said matter-of-factly, and Justin nodded. 

"Ah. Well, if you'll excuse me, my wife is getting a little too close to the hors d'ouvres. Greta, honey, it's after 7, remember what your trainer said..." he called as he walked away. Brian and Justin watched as he walked away. 

"Asshole." Justin murmured. Brian chuckled. 

"Yeah, he's a real class act. But, he happens to be a very rich class act, so as far as work concerns, I'm his wing man." 

Justin smirked and shook his head. Brian's focus was on Justin's paintings, and Justin squirmed as he watched Brian study them. 

"So..."  he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

"So...?" 

"What do you think?" Justin scrunched up his nose, biting his thumbnail.

"What does it matter what I think?" Brian asked, looking at him. Justin shrugged.

"They're fucking genius" Brian said, looking at the paintings, nudging Justin's arm with his. Even the small contact was enough to cloud Brian's mind even though he was the one who had done it. Justin felt himself blush, and couldn't help grinning ear-to-ear. "They're the best thing here by far. The rest of this stuff..." Brian trailed off. 

"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, they're kinda..."

"Contrite?" Brian looked at Justin, who laughed.

"And the people..." Justin began. 

"Pretentious..." 

"Boring..."

"Ugly as hell...."

Justin looked at Brian and they laughed. Justin shrugged his shoulders and held them around his ears. 

"Do you wanna get outta here?" He asked Brian sponaneously. 

"And go where?" Brian asked.

"I dunno, somewhere not teeming with the masses of hypocrites who think themselves learned and above it all..." 

"That does sound tempting..." Brian smirked. "We could head back to my place for a drink, it's only a block and a half away, and every place around here's a shit hole" Justin looked hesitant, and opened his mouth to reject. "Relax, Justin, it'll be nothing like when I invited you to the loft." Justin looked at Brian. There was tension in the silence that followed. It was the first time either of them had acknowledged their past. Brian tried to smirk, but it came out as a mere pursing of his lips. Justin shrugged. "Why the hell not?" he said casually. "We'll just need to slip out of here subtly, so my agent doesn't see me leave." Brian laughed. They got their coats and quietly slipped out the door.  

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Restricted

They walked side by side down the busy street towards Brian's apartment, talking about nothing in particular. They stopped outside a chic looking building, and Justin nodded his head in approval. 

Brian slid the door open, and Justin smirked and shook his head.

"That brings back a lot of old memories" he said, smiling bitterly.

Brian smirked. "Yeah, it was the main selling point for this place for me." 

They walked in, and Brian tossed his coat onto his couch, heading over to the trolley that carried his liquor. 

"Drink?" He offered. 

Justin looked over at the trolley, thinking ironically why Brian would want his booze on wheels. "Yeah, actually. Beam, if you've got it." 

Brian snorted incredulously. "'If I've got it...'" 

Justin smiled. "Well, you turned me onto it." 

Brian felt his heart freeze up. In his thoughts about Justin, he'd never really given any thought to Justin thinking about him. Now that he thought of it, he wondered how Justin dealt with Brian's absence. 'He probably managed fine' he thought to himself. Justin was sitting at the table, and Brian walked over, handed him his drink and sat down across from him. 

"So, what have you been doing with yourself for the past few years, Brian?" Justin asked. 

"Nothing that fascinating," Brian started. 

"I doubt that" Justin said, grinning wryly. Brian shook his head. 

"Just working...clubbing...all the things that make life worth living" he said, raising his glass in a toast. "And what about you? How'd you manage to become such a prominent young talent?" 

Justin grinned and squirmed and blushed. "euughh, I hate it when people talk like that..."

"Don't lie, you love it..." 

Justin laughed. "No, really, it's all bullshit. I dunno, I...I graduated high school, and I started at PIFA, but I kept struggling with the whole drawing and painting stuff because of my gimp hand and everything, so my mom found me this computer type thing-" 

"-gimp hand?" Brian interjected. Justin realized how little Brian really knew. He never even heard about the bashing. 

"Oh, um...I had an accident at the end of senior year...well, not accident, really, it was completely intentional..." Brian furrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Do you ever remember me talking about this kid Chris Hobbs?" 

"Faintly..." Brian fibbed. He faintly remembered wanting to rip his balls off and stuff them up his ass.

"...Yeah, well anyway, he brought a baseball bat to prom and attacked me in the parking garage. Daphne found me, but I'd been bleeding pretty heavily. He hit me in the head. It was one of those things where if he'd hit me a fraction of an inch this way or that way..." Justin trailed off. Brian's head was spinning. How had he never even heard about this? He supposed that no one thought he'd be interested. Justin saw the brief nauseous look on his face. 'He could have died' Brian thought. And he wouldn't have done anything. While Brian worked and fucked around and tried to forget that he existed, he was almost killed, and he hadn't even known. Brian rubbed his eyes. "...anyway, I was in a coma for a couple of weeks, and rehab for a couple more, and my motor skills were damaged in my right hand, so I couldn't draw with it, or even control it for a little while, so my art was challenging." Justin shrugged. 

"....Wow." Brian shook his head. "But...you're ok?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I went to PIFA for a couple of years, but eventually I ran out of money and my Dad wouldn't help me out, and I couldn't get a scholarship because he made too much money, blah blah, fortunately, Linds introduced me to some people and I started getting bookings, which led to more bookings...I'd been showing stuff in New York for a while when Charlie got the job with the New Yorker..." 

It was the first time that Charlie had come up in the conversation, and somehow Justin had almost forgotten all about him in his time with Brian. He saw Brian's eyes shift down to the table, where he fiddled with the tablecloth.   


"...and we moved here."

Brian nodded slowly. "Well, that's quite a story."

"Yeah..." Justin finished off his Beam, and Brian poured him another before filling his glass. Justin took another sip. "God, I remember how much I wished you were there when I woke up from the coma. I don't think I ever missed you more than that moment. It was only a couple weeks after you left." Brian stared at him, speechless. His heart was pounding. He really hadn't given much thought to how much his leaving would've hurt Justin. He looked back down at the tablecloth. 

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Justin got up, turning beet red, and walked over to the window. 'There's no way you just said that' he thought to himself. He tried to brush it off. "You have a really gorgeous view." Brian sat, stunned at Justin's confession, before he decided to get up and go to the window to stand next to Justin, and join him in staring down into the street. It was getting harder by the second not to grab Justin and stick his tongue down the boy's throat, feel that skin again, know those lips again...They were so close, but so restricted. Brian had never felt so deprived. They stood in silence. Justin decided, the damage was done, so there was nothing holding him back from asking everything he needed to know. 

"Did you ever think about me after you left?" Justin asked, the desperation and hurt clear in his piercing blue eyes. Brian had never forgotten those eyes. Brian just looked back at him, equally desperate to tell him everything, to hold him, to kiss him, to fuck him...but he just stood there. Because he had to. Justin looked back out into the street, his breath uneven. 

"I tried to...." he didn't even know what was coming out of his mouth. He couldn't control his words, and for the first time that he could remember, he didn't want to. "...to forget. I've never had to forget about anyone before...To make myself forget..." 'No no no, what are you doing???' his mind screamed at him. But he couldn't stop. "I couldn't." 'Stop right now, Kinney, stop it.' Before he could control it, his hand reached out his fingertips ran across a strand of Justin's hair. "So fucking gorgeous..." He was startled when Justin smacked his hand out of the way and shoved him. 

"Don't you fucking dare, Brian, don't you fucking dare!" Justin yelled, shoving him again. When his face caught the moonlight, Brian could see tears glistening in his eyes, but his voice scarcely reflected sadness, but rather was filled with the most painful anger Brian had experienced. Justin just kept on shoving him. "You leave and completely cut me off when you knew perfectly well I _lived_ for you, Brian, I _fucking lived_ for you! Do you even know how long I fucking cried like a pussy every night, how I had to wake up every morning and remember again, remember you were gone, and never coming back, that you were the fucking love of my life, and you just disappeared! While you were in New York fucking every hot guy you saw, I just fucking sat there, wondering how I was going to recover! Do you know what it's like to almost die, and wake up with fucking amnesia, and have to fucking be told that you were gone, find out again, and go through it all again? Do you??" 

"Justin..Justin!" Brian scrambled, trying to hold onto Justin's arms, but Justin fought harder, and pounded Brian's chest with his fists and kept yelling. 

"Two years, Brian, two fucking years to stop thinking about you constantly, and I _loved_ you, Brian, and I stil...but now I'm ok, and _now_ you're back?? And _now_ you're trying to seduce me, when I'm finally happy? And what, for a nostalgic fuck? Fuck you, Brian, Fuck _you_!!" 

He shoved Brian a final time. Brian thought he'd been blindsided when he saw Justin again for the first time, but this...he could barely catch his breath, and not just from the beating from Justin. He stared at Justin, mouth gaping. Justin turned away, covering his face with his hand. He was positive that he just made a complete princessy jackass of himself in front of the man that he had been dreaming about for 3 years. Brian stood, not moving, fairly sure that he was going to have a heart attack. What the fuck was this? And why was Justin acting like this was all his problem? It almost made him angry that Justin was acting the victim. Even though really, he was. He knew it. He just didn't understand it. 

"Justin, I don't want a nostalgic fuck...I want...I just...I don't know what to do, because when I think about you..." He stared at the floor, gesturing indecisively with his hands, not sure how to finish that sentence. 

"...I can't stop." 

Very smooth, Kinney. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to figure out how to backpedal from what he just said. Before he could, Justin turned around, removed Brian's hand from his own face, and kissed him, breathing hard. Brian felt every ounce of blood in his body rush to his head, and it was more overwhelming than anything he'd ever experienced to have those lips on his again. Justin stopped kissing him for a moment, still holding Brian's head and panting for breath. Brian froze for a moment, then kissed him back, twice as hard, practically bending him over backwards. He moaned and ran his fingers through Justin's soft hair as Justin returned the moans and groans. Brian pushed Justin back until he slammed against the wall, and he kept kissing him ferociously. Justin felt completely out of control. To have Brian kissing him again, it was like the countless dreams he'd had, only so much more. Every feeling he'd ever had for Brian, love, lust, hate, desire, was all flooding into his body, and all he could do was kiss Brian and strip off his clothes with everything he had in him. They writhed and gasped and groaned and explored each other's bodies with their hands. Brian lifted Justin's t-shirt over his head and kissed, bit, licked, attacked his collar bone while Justin let out a throaty gasp and moan which vibrated under Brian's mouth, causing him to reciprocate. Justin's hand roamed to the growing bulge in Brian's pants. Brian cried out against Justin's neck, and kissed all over his face before returning his lips to Justin's. That mouth was his again, and he wanted to take it and claim it and keep it forever. He couldn't control himself, or what he was doing. He ran his hands over the skin that hadn't changed. The most incredible skin he'd ever touched. He'd fucked a million guys, he'd had every type of person, but he'd never wanted anyone like this, never needed it from anyone like this. It felt like the only thing between him and complete oblivion was Justin's body, and he wasn't safe until he had it. He had both his hands tangled into Justin's hair and Justin was making incoherent noises, as was Brian. They both gasped and moaned and yelled louder than they ever had, even when they were together before. After a while, Brian realized that Justin had been saying "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." over and over for God knows how long while Brian fumbled with the zipper on his pants. he finally got them down and was reacquainted with Justin's perfect young cock. He grabbed it and pumped his hand up and down the shaft and Justin threw back his head and yelled, and Brian couldn't help letting out a strangled " _God!"_ just at the sound of Justin. He fought with clothing until all of their clothes were removed, then grabbed Justin around the small of his back, and pulled him to the floor. He kissed Justin all down his abdomen while he fumbled to put on a condom and lube, experiencing that ivory skin in every way he could. He licked up Justin's shaft and swallowed him, just like the night before he left. Justin let out a strangled " _BRIAN!"_ which almost got Brian off right then and there. Without waiting for permission, because he figured they'd already gotten past that, he drove his cock into Justin, and they both let out a scream that probably could've been heard across the street. Justin kept saying "fuck me" over and over, even though at that point it was completely unnecessary, and Brian couldn't stop saying Justin's name desperately. Ultimately, he couldn't stop himself saying everything he wanted to, with every thrust. 

"I...always...want...you...still...want you..."

"Oh God, Brian!" Justin screamed. Brian's head fell to Justin's chest as he thrusted into Justin with every ounce of strength he had. 

"Every...fuck...I want it...to...be you..."

Brian licked the tears from before from Justin's face. He'd never been so overwhelmed by anything, and he felt like he was on fire. 

"Fuck me...stay..." Justin cried. Brian cried out and pressed his hands into Justin's. Justin's legs were wrapped around Brian's back, holding on for dear life. Brian let out an angry growl and kissed Justin until his lips felt like they were bruising. They broke the kiss when they needed breath, and moaned and breathed and gasped each other's name. Brian thrusted a few more times until it was too much and he came harder than he ever had, Justin coming at the same time, both of them screaming with abandon until they both quite literally passed out, Brian collapsing on top of Justin on the floor, where they laid completely passed out until the sun came up. 


	15. After

'Taylor, what have you done?'

Justin walked quickly down the chilly street, distancing himself from Brian's apartment building as much as possible. Once he was a few blocks down, he hailed a cab, and sat back against the seat, gasping for breath. Why did he stop carrying around his puffer? 

"What happened to you, kid?" The cabbie asked through the rear-view mirror. 

'Oh, nothing much, just got my heart broken when I was eighteen, was haunted by the memory of this Godly man for three years after, let it tear my life apart, finally pieced myself back together, and then just now, I let him fuck my brains out at his apartment, even though I have a boyfriend.' Hmm...maybe a little too much info for a total stranger. 

"Just my asthma acting up, I'm fine." he said dismissively. The cabbie raised an eyebrow at him and drove him to his apartment. To their apartment. Charlie. He was flooded by agonizing guilt. There's no way he did this to Charlie, no way. He couldn't even stand to think about it. As he made his way up the stairs to their apartment, his eyes burned and he wondered how he was capable of doing that to someone he cared about so much. As he crept silently into the bed on the floor next to Charlie, he felt as though Charlie already knew. And as he lay completely still, completely awake, deep down he knew that he had ruined everything they could have had. What made him feel even worse, if it was possible, is that he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat.

 

Brian woke up on the floor naked. Ok, well, wouldn't be the first time. He took a moment to consider what crazy drunken exploits got him into this position. Then it all flooded back to him. He still felt physically exhausted, and he didn't know if it was from the most mind-blowing fuck he'd ever had, or sleeping on a hardwood floor, or from letting out all of his dark dirty secrets about the blond that seemed to have exploded back into his life. He felt somewhat elated when he remembered the subsequent events of their melodramatic exchange. Then he realized that Sunshine wasn't there. His heart sank. He looked around, trying to see if he'd gone to the bathroom, or was in the kitchen. He couldn't remember ever sleeping with someone and then wanting them to be there in the morning. He glanced over to his left, and saw a piece of paper lying folded on the floor just past his hand. He reached out and unfolded it, and started to read. 

 

_Brian,_   
_I'm sorry about last night. It shouldn't have happened._   
_As amazing as it was, I think we should forget about it._   
_I'm with someone, and he loves me._   
_And frankly, I think we've done each other enough damage as it is._

_Justin._

 

Brian felt like someone had dropped an anvil on his stomach. Justin said that last night shouldn't have happened. Funny, last night was the first time Brian had felt anything at all other than empty for years. He crumpled the paper, and put his head in his hands. For christ's sake, he still had the kid's cum all over him. A part of him didn't want to wash it off. Then, the more sensible part of him reminded him how gross and weird that was, and he headed to the shower.

Somehow, being with Justin again had unlocked all sorts of memories of fucking him that he had purposely forgotten. As he stepped into the shower, he remembered their first shower fuck. He remembered his head feeling so foggy, and all of it clearing away as soon as he saw the kid's naked skin dripping wet, with steam pouring off of him. He had tipped his head back as if the hot water was the best thing he'd felt. It had triggered Brian's fuzzy memories of taking the kid's virginity the night before, and Brian had felt himself harden, just as he was doing now just remembering...remembering it. He stepped into his shower, alone, and started to wash the cum off his stomach. As the water touched it, he could immediately smell Justin, and he had no choice but to grab his own cock and get himself off just from the scent. The smell led to the memory of the night before, which turned him on even more, and he came a lot harder than he usually did when jacking himself off.  After he came, he felt a rush of confusion and frustration and sadness. He probably wouldn't ever fuck Justin again. He had accepted the fact that he'd never see Justin again long ago, but when he did see him, it was as if all of that went out the window. He had always thought that if he could just tell Justin everything, just fuck him one more time, then he could get it out of his system and it'd be over once and for all. It did the exact opposite. He felt completely addicted, like he wouldn't be alright until Justin touched him again. He felt his face scrunch up and he punched the shower wall. He'd never touch Justin like that, probably never see him again, and he felt more helpless without him than ever. 

It was then that he decided that he wasn't letting his life fall apart without a fight.


	16. Pure, Unadulterated Melodrama.

Brian's eyes scanned the room like a hawk for the famous blonde mop of hair while his heart sat in his throat. Finally, he centered on the side of Justin's face as he was turning to face Brian from across the room. Brian caught Justin's eye, and saw Justin's face shift from its phony smile to dread. After a moment, Justin turned back to the stuffy art critic he was talking with and politely excused himself. He walked away hastily across the gallery, avoiding Brian's eye, trying to go somewhere Brian couldn't find him. Brian wasn't going to be defeated so easily. He followed after Justin and eventually found him in a slightly more secluded corner of the gallery, staring fixedly at a random, rather boring piece of artwork. 

"Justin." 

Justin paused and visibly tensed, but when he spoke, he talked with an indifferent politeness that Brian wasn't used to. 

"You seem to be coming to a lot of these lately." he mused.

Brian took the opportunity to admire Justin while he answered. "You too." 

"Well I have to, it's my job, Brian." Justin said calmly, with a hint of impatience. "Although, they do get pretty tedious sometimes-"

"-Justin, I have to talk to you."

"No you don't." Brian was taken aback. Justin just kept on staring at the mundane painting, which frustrated Brian to no end. 

"We have to-" 

"Brian, there's nothing to talk about." Justin said, shaking his head dismissively, still avoiding Brian's gaze. He knew that he'd be useless if he let himself look into those eyes. 

"You can't be serious, Justin. There's nothing to talk about? And since when do you try to hide from your problems? That's not the Justin I know."

"Since when do you actually wanna confront an issue, or talk about your feelings? Fuck you Brian! There is no 'Justin you know' because you don't know me! You haven't seen me in 3 years and it's not like you ever even talked to me before that, so don't fucking criticize the person I've become because it's not like you had anything to do with any of it."

Brian sucked in a breath. He took Justin's harsh comment because he knew he deserved it. He grabbed Justin's arm gently but firmly and dragged him into the gallery's unused kitchen. 

"Brian, if you honestly think I'm going to fuck you in here, you're seriously delus-" 

"We're going to talk." Brian stood determinedly. "About what happened." 

"Brian, what are you even going to say?" Justin asked exasperatedly, shaking his head. "What do you want from me, anyway?"

"I..." Brian hadn't really thought that far. What did he want from Justin? He really couldn't come up with a concrete answer.

"You know what, don't even bother answering that. I know exactly what you want, Brian Kinney." "Well, it's a good thing someone does," Brian thought. "What you want is for me to dump my boyfriend so that you can fuck me any old time you want. You want me at your beck and call, your drooling admirer, like when I was seventeen. Because it was so convenient, wasn't it? And now that I'm in the city, why not carry on like that? I mean sure, it'll completely fuck up my life, but that doesn't affect you any, does it?"

"Justin, that's not it!" Brian said impatiently. 

"It is, though, Brian. Because I told you, I'm happy. I told you how much pain you put me through, how hard it was to get over you, don't you think that following me around and seducing me, and tearing my relationship apart might make that worse?" Brian said nothing. "If you really gave a shit about me, Brian, if you really cared, you'd want me to be happy. But as usual, it's not about me, it's about you." 

Brian looked at the floor. "I do want you to be happy, Justin." 

"I dunno, Brian, do you?" Justin looked straight into Brian's eyes, leaning with one arm on the counter, shaking his head. 

"Justin, you really don't understand, I would do anything if it made you happy, I would." Brian insisted. 

"Anything?" Justin said quietly, raising his eyebrows. Brian nodded, blinking. 

"I just...I really don't know what to do, you know more than anyone this really isn't my thing." Brian took a step towards Justin so that they were mere inches apart. "I just need you to tell me what I'm supposed to do, to make you happy," Brian whispered, his face was hovering about an inch away from Justin's. Justin closed his eyes. 

"Brian...you're different, you know that. You'll always be different, no matter what happens. I can meet a thousand amazing guys and nobody will be able to cancel you out. The romance, the love, the happiness, it's all been there with other people, especially with Charlie, but you..." Justin took Brian's hand and gingerly placed it over his own heart. "Right here...the hurt right here..." He took in a shaky breath. "That's all yours." Justin held Brian's hand over his chest and gripped it tightly, and tried to hold onto his voice. "Nobody can hurt me like you do, Brian." Brian took a sharp intake of breath. His heart raced, and for the first time, probably in years, he felt a burning behind his eyes as the overwhelming shame formed a ball in his throat. Brian moved the hand over Justin's chest so that it was cupping the side of Justin's head. They stood there for a moment, listening to each other's breathing. Brian finally steadied his voice. 

"Justin-"

"Tell me you don't love me." 

Brian pulled his face back a few inches so that he could look at Justin's. 

"What?"

"Tell me you don't love me" Justin said more firmly. Brian broke away and paced, his back facing Justin, his hand holding his head.

"It's what I need, Brian. You said you'd do anything. I spent so many years knowing you were gone but wondering in the back of my mind if we could ever happen. That fucking false hope is what kept me from forgetting you. It's what I need to be happy, Brian."

"For fuck's sakes, Justin-" Brian groaned.

"Just say it, Brian! I know it'll never happen, that you can never offer me what I want because you'll never be that person, and you know it too, so just fucking say it!" Justin was getting more and more angry now, but Brian just kept pacing and running his hands over his face, muttering "no no no..." 

"Fucking stop it!" Justin stormed over to Brian and yanked his hands off his face. "You know it's true, just fucking _say_ it!" he shoved Brian in frustration. "SAY IT!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Brian's expression was completely unfamiliar. He looked scared. 

The door swung open behind Justin. He turned, and saw one of the waiters standing there, confused, taking in Justin's red, tear-streaked face. "What the fuck is going on in here?" 

Justin turned back around and saw the other door swinging back and forth on its hinges. Brian was gone. 


	17. Fireworks

  
Author's notes: Iswear to god, I've tried to write this chapter about 8 million times, but between my computer crashing, and accidentally closing the window, and hitting backspace and the webpage going back and erasing it, I'm at my rope's end.  So, I hope you guys like it, because it cost me my mental health. ok, bitching over.   


* * *

"But it's New Year's eve, Charlie!" Justin groaned, unloading cans from a cardboard box into their small cupboard. 

"I know sweetie, but they asked _me_ to cover it. Cover New Year's eve in New York. It's a big deal. I can't turn that down, not right now" Charlie said, stocking the crisper with heads of lettuce. "You understand, right?" 

"Of course" Justin said bitterly, "Although, it seems that all I've been doing lately is understanding. First the art shows, then Christmas, now this? I hardly even see you anymore." 

"I'm not in a position to turn down work, Justin. Besides, you seem to be so distracted lately, you hardly notice when I walk in the room anyway, so I don't see how it really matters," Charlie muttered, closing the fridge. 

"What was that?" Justin snapped. 

"Nothing..." Charlie sighed, then turned to Justin. "If you'd just tell me what was on your mind..."

"For the last fucking time, nothing is on my mind. I'm stressed, I'm busy, I thought you of all people would understand that." 

"Then who's Brian?" 

Justin turned and stared at Charlie. "What?" 

Charlie's lips pursed, and his stare burned through Justin. "The name you've been saying in your sleep every night, sometimes more than once. I mean, you did it once or twice when we first started dating, but it had stopped for years-Where are you going?" 

Justin had grabbed his coat and was headed for the door. "I need a breath of fresh smog." He didn't turn to look at Charlie before he walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

 

After glancing both ways down the street for a few minutes, unsure, he decided to go get coffee. He was halfway to the café when he absentmindedly felt for his wallet, and realized it wasn't there. Shit. He'd left it at the checkout at the grocery store. Genius. He stopped, turned around and headed in the direction of Garden of Eden. 

Justin felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he stepped into the store. He strode over to the counter where he'd bought his groceries, butting in front of a lineup of faceless strangers. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think I left my wallet-"

The cashier handed him his wallet without a word, but rather with a crabby glare, then returned to helping her customer. 

"Oh-um, thanks." 

"Sunshine, didn't your mother ever tell you not to butt in front of a line of people?" 

Shit shit shit shit shit shit. Justin turned, and of course, there stood the tall brunette with a basket full of guava juice, pomegranates and God knows what other exotic plants that Justin assumed were somewhat edible. 

"Brian. What are you doing here?" Justin said, rubbing his forehead.

"Well, I've become accustomed to the luxury of having food in my home, so..." Brian gazed gently at Justin. A little more gently than Justin was used to. 

"Right." Justin nodded. "Well, I should get going-"

"Wait." Brian stepped toward Justin. "What are your plans for New Year's eve?"

"Well, to be honest, I'm not sure, my boyfriend got booked for a photo spread, so I'm...Brian, don't think that we're gonna have, like, a new year's date or whatever." 

Brian snorted slightly. "No, of course, the idea itself is preposterous. I just thought there was something you should see." Justin looked suspiciously at Brian, who rolled his eyes. "Brooklyn Bridge. Everyone says that Times Square is the place to be, but really, you stand in the same spot for 12 hours in the cold so you can see a big ball drop. It's not great. They do fireworks from the top of the statue of liberty, and the view from the bridge is amazing. It's the best place to be in the city at that moment." 

"I dunno Brian-" 

"Justin, please." Brian stared directly into Justin's eyes. The word "please" sounded unfamiliar coming from Brian's mouth, enough that Justin was taken aback. Justin broke the eye contact, and glanced down at his wallet in his hand. 

"Well, um, I should get going. See you around." Justin hurried out of the grocery store, his stomach churning. 

 

***

 

"What am I doing, what am I doing?" 

Justin got off the bus near the pier and walked towards the bridge. He never doubted that he'd end up here tonight, just to see exactly what Brian had intended for him to see. There were already a lot of people standing on the walkway. Perhaps he wouldn't even run into Brian. He found himself a spot leaning on the railing, staring into the East River, and sure enough, within 5 minutes, Brian was leaning on the railing next to him. 

"They're going to start the fireworks in a couple minutes." 

Justin jumped, startled at the familiar voice. He snuck a glance at Brian, and was suddenly struck by how...beautiful he looked. Bundled up in a wool overcoat and scarf, leather gloves, slight lines under his eyes that Justin hadn't noticed, that definitely hadn't been there 3 years ago, his hair rustling in the breeze...his breath forming a cloud in front of his rosy lips. Justin took a deep breath and forced himselt to look back out onto the river. 

"They start them before the countdown?" 

"Oh yeah. They go on for almost an hour. They stop them for the 10 seconds of the countdown and then start again..." Brian sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. There was silence. Then, a splash of light lit up the river, drawing their attention. Gradually, the bursts and streams of different coloured light grew, danced, intertwined with each other more and more. Justin had temporarily forgotten about the conflicts that had been plaguing his mind for weeks. He was taken aback by the magical beauty that was the explosions of light, and the way they reflected in the water. He longed for his sketchpad, though he didn't know how he'd be able to capture this moment. 

Brian was equally taken aback by the beauty that was Justin's awestruck face, bathed in moonlight and the reflected light of the fireworks. His mouth was fixed in a gentle smile, and the reflections of the sparks danced in his eyes as he shook his head ever so slightly. After a minute, Justin noticed Brian staring at him and stared right back. They drifted in each other's eyes for a moment before Justin glanced back down at the water shamefully. 

"Why did you ask me to come here, Brian?" 

Brian took in a deep breath and shrugged. "I just wanted you to see it. I thought you'd like it. It's exquisite, isn't it?" 

Justin nodded. "How very selfless of you." 

Brian frowned. "Well not entirely, it was also for the sake of seeing your face when you saw it for the first time." Justin looked up at Brian, then stared back down at his hands. 

"Brian..." 

The silence hung in the air for a moment, and they stared back up at the fireworks. Justin hoped that it would keep going, that it would stretch until his life had returned back to normal. Maybe Brian would even walk away, back into the crowd. But a part, a big part of Justin didn't want that, and he was equally relieved and terrified when Brian whispered his name. 

"Justin..."

Justin's didn't know what to do, so he kept staring at the water. Brian's heart was pounding. He knew he had to do this, he just didn't know how. He placed his hand next to Justin's on the railing so that he was practically leaning over the young blonde.

"You're all I think about."

Justin cringed, and looked away from Brian.

"I just want you to be happy. I'm not completely defective, you know. If you really don't want me, then I can take it, I'll piss off." 

Justin scoffed. If he didn't want Brian, this wouldn't be nearly as hard. 

"But I get the feeling that that's not the problem here. Justin..."

Brian slid his hand over Justin's on the railing. Justin winced, but couldn't bring himself to pull his hand away. Brian took his hand in his, and lifted it to his chest, feeling the pressure of Justin's hand through his leather jacket. "Right there...The hurt right there..." He squeezed Justin's hand. "That's all yours. And I know it's all my fault. And the fact that I ever hurt you, or caused you to be unhappy..."

The crowd started to chant around them. "Ten..." 

He took a deep breath while Justin tried to steady his bottom lip and keep his hand from shaking. "...it's the biggest mistake in a lifetime full of mistakes. So I'll do whatever you need me to do...anything except what you asked of me. I can't give you that. And whatever that means..." He trailed off and broke his gaze from Justin's.

Smiling faces went unnoticed around them. "five..." 

"It means I just need to know that you'll be okay. And that you're not going to...spend your life not going after what you really want because you're afraid you'll get hurt. Your courage, Justin, it's the best part of you. And trust me...it's just not a good way to live." 

A cheer arose from the crowd around them, but they barely noticed. The fireworks started up again, and people were blowing irritating noise makers and kissing all around them, but all they could do was stare into each other's eyes. Brian ran a hand down the side of Justin's face, a tear dropping onto his thumb. Justin turned away, shaken and embarrassed. 

"I have to go." 

He wrenched his hand out of Brian's and walked into the crowd. A few people surrounding them had noticed the seemingly dramatic exchange between them with curiosity, but they turned back to their lovers, families and friends and celebrated the new year. 

And somewhere across the mob of people, a photographer had lowered his camera and was staring at the blond who was pushing his way toward the end of the bridge. 


	18. The Man from the Paintings

"No no, I think it's a great idea, an exhibition of New York on New Year's. It's so obvious, seems like the kind of thing that would've already been done, but I can't think of any time I've seen it." 

Noel Greyson paced around the gallery, starbucks in hand. He was one of the connections in the industry that Charlie was hoping to hang on to. 

"Where's your stuff, Charlie?" 

"Oh, over here." Charlie steered Noel over to the adjacent wall where his photos were hanging. "I was stationed in Times Square. I got some interesting shots of the countdown. I was focusing more on the reactions of the crowd than the actual visual spectacles." 

Noel nodded. "Not bad, not bad. I would imagine it would be hard to come up with something original in such a cliche'd setting."

Charlie nodded humbly in gratitude. "So, anyone else here you might reccommend?" Noel inquired.

"Well, my friend Brad's stuff is around here somewhere. He was at the Brooklyn Bridge fireworks show. I haven't seen them yet, but he's very good. Ah, here we go." 

They stepped up to yet another wall. The gallery was designed zig-zagged so that there were different surfaces for every different artist. 

"I love his use of colour, especially in the fireworks." Noel mused. "I don't even recognize this type of film, do you?" 

"Um," Charlie had no idea. "I'm not sure, maybe 38?" 

"It's almost eerie, how it makes the light shake and glow. Oh wow..." his focus was on a photo near the bottom left corner. "This one is breathtaking."

Charlie looked at it, relatively unimpressed. "Yeah, it's pretty interesting, alright." 

"Do you know what makes it so dynamic, Charlie?" Noel looked at Charlie. Charlie smiled nervously, embarrassed at the fact that he had no clue whatsoever. 

"I'm sure you'll tell me" he replied. 

"It's the fact that it tells a story. Or rather, that it doesn't, but it makes you want to know the story. It's in the details of the shot, Charlie. Specifically, this couple." 

Noel gestured towards a tall brunette and a shorter blonde pair of men in the bottom right corner. Charlie didn't know how he hadn't seen it before. The blond had his hand on the brunette's chest, and tears in his eyes. "  See how they're standing, with everyone smiling and celebrating, and they're not even paying attention? It's like they're in their own world. And there's something really significant going on there. Something life-changing. It's like there's another world in each other's eyes and it makes you want to know what's happening, because you can see, it's drama, it's heartbreak, it's confusion but most of all-" Noel looked back at Charlie, who was looking quite spooked. "-it's love."

Charlie felt like a cold hand had gotten a hold of his heart. Not only did he recognize the blond, quite well, but he recognized the brunette as well. He knew in that instant that Justin's heart was never his. He never looked at Charlie like that. 

"Charlie? Charlie, you there?" 

Charlie glanced up and steadied his breathing. "Huh? Yeah, um, listen, I've got to go. It was good talking to you." 

Charlie hurried out of the gallery, leaving Noel staring after him, bewildered. 

***

Charlie sat huddled in an old chair he and Justin had rescued off of the street together. He ran his finger around the edge of his wine glass and listened to the ringing it produced. The skin on his cheeks was tight with dried tears, and burning with the glow he always got after he'd had a drink or two. When Justin opened the door, he didn't even flinch, much less glance in his direction. 

"We haven't talked in days, Justin." 

"Jesus christ!" Justin exclaimed at the voice that had seemingly come out of the darkness. "Charlie, you scared the shit outta me." 

"Where've you been all the time?" Charlie asked, still not looking up from his glass, the ringing noise filling the apartment. 

"Just, around, errands, work..." Justin couldn't bear to look at Charlie sulking in that beaten old chair. 

"Yeah, I'm not really surprised, you must have a lot on your mind right now."  

Justin put down his bag and walked over to the counter, dying to end this conversation. "Well yeah, with work being how it is, all these crazy deadlines..."

"Not to mention your whirlwind of a love life." Charlie smirked bitterly, his throat burning. Justin didn't say anything, but looked at Charlie, his mouth hanging open. 

"I was in the gallery today, and my buddy Brad...his work, the shots he took on New Year's eve from Brooklyn Bridge..."Justin was still baffled as to what Charlie was talking about. He didn't think he'd ever seen Charlie this torn apart. 

"You were with someone, that night. Seemed to have some sort of dramatic exchange..."

"That...that's just someone...Charlie, I barely even know him.." Justin didn't know why he was lying.

"Justin don't lie to me." Charlie looked at Justin for the first time in days. He got up from his chair and looked Justin square in the face. "Whatever else, don't lie. I know who he is." 

Justin was speechless. How had he found out? How much did he know? He was so scared, scared of hurting Charlie the way he had been hurt, maybe even worse. "But-but how..." 

"It's the guy from the paintings, Justin. I've seen enough of them, and I'm willing to bet you know him pretty well... "

Justin stared at the ground, thinking he'd never felt this ashamed in his life. His urges conflicted between holding Charlie in his arms, apologizing over and over, and running out the door right now. But he didn't do either. And Charlie just kept on staring at him.

"It's Brian, isn't it?" 

Justin looked back up at Charlie, and he couldn't speak. Charlie saw the first real thing he'd seen in Justin's eyes for months. Through the undropped tears, it was an apology, it was shame, it was the truth. Justin couldn't do anything but nod, and Charlie nodded back. He couldn't help wondering if it was the most honest exchange they'd ever had. 

Charlie walked over to Justin, and Justin flinched, unsure of what Charlie was going to do. Would he kiss him? Would he hit him? Justin wouldn't blame him. But instead, he took Justin gently by the wrist and led him to the couch. They sat down facing each other, Justin's wrist still enclosed in Charlie's hand. 

"Jus, I think it's about time you told me the whole story."

Justin shook his head. "I don't know if that's a good-"

"I'm not asking for vivid sex scenes here, Justin, I just want to know who he is. I mean, I'm not stupid, I know he's probably a more central character in your life story than me." Justin looked up like he was going to argue, but Charlie stopped him. "Justin. He was in your paintings for years. You never painted me. Just...tell me the truth. Who is he?"

Justin nodded, looked at Charlie's hand over his, and took a deep breath. "He's...Brian Kinney. Um...God, where do I start..." 


	19. Listen Nessa, I've Got Something to Confess-uh...

  
Author's notes: This chapter is a shoutout to my friend Nessa, who's the only person I trust with the information that I am dorky enough to write fanfiction. I promised her a character, so here you go.  Oh, and the title's _a Wicked_ reference for those of you that don't know and think I'm crazy.   


* * *

Justin and Charlie were done. Charlie had offered to move out and find a new apartment, but Justin insisted on leaving, since he was the one that had done the damage. Now he sat in the tiny, cramped apartment of Nessa, whom he liked to think of as his New York Daphne. They had met through work, she being the manager's assistant at Stonich's, the first gallery he was booked for, where he'd done many shows since. He liked her because she was one of the only non-pretentious people he'd met in the business, and if possible, she was as big of a dork, if not bigger, than he was. That, and her Italian heritage ensured plenty of fresh-baked canneloni and meatballs from her over-enthusiastic but sweet Grandmother. As he glanced over the posters completely coating her minimal wallspace, spanning from Boondock Saints to Disney movies to the Slytherin House crest, his belief in her geekdom was confirmed more strongly. 

            "If the people at Stonich's heard about this" he said, snickering. 

            "And they will NOT, or I will throw you out on your ass. I won't have you making me look all unprofessional in the workplace." Nessa threatened, sipping her grape fanta. "You hungry? My grandma dropped off some Rapini this afternoon. " Before Justin could even reply, Nessa was shoving a plate of very Italian-looking food into his lap. Justin took a bite, and closed his eyes, letting out an appreciative groan. 

            "It's been so long since I've eaten anything home-cooked" he said through a mouthful of food.

            "So," Nessa began. "You gonna tell me what's going on, or what? First I barely hear from you for months, next thing I know you're my new roommate?" 

 

"I'm sorry Nessa," Justin said, shaking his head apologetically. "I know I've been a terrible friend, it's just-"

 

"Hey, hey, did I say that?" Nessa said gently, putting her hand on Justin's knee. "I just figured there had to be something going on. So, what happened with you and Charlie, if you don't mind my asking?"

            Justin took a deep breath. "Remember a couple years ago when I told you about that guy Brian, from Pittsburgh?" 

            "The love of your life" Nessa said, nodding.

            "Hey, when did I say that?" Justin said defensively.

            "You didn't have to, Justin, I just know about these things." 

            Justin furrowed his brow. "...Anyway, he lives in the city, and a while back I ran into him...I don't know, I thought I was really over him, but the moment I saw him, it was like it was all for shit. I couldn't stop thinking about him, it was just like before, only worse. And then I started seeing him other places...and then one night..."

            Nessa craned her neck forward, waiting for Justin to elaborate, to which he responded merely by looking back at her. She clued in, and gasped.

            "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, shoving his knee. "You didn't!" Justin merely wrinkled his nose and shrugged his shoulders, before covering his face with his hands, embarrassed.  "Was it as good as before?" she asked. 

            "Better" Justin said, shaking his head. "My God, you have no idea, it was so...so much more than anything else I'd ever felt, ever, in any way. It was so. Fucking. Hot." Justin ran his hand over his face, blushing merely at the thought. Nessa stifled a giggle, before gripping his knee suddenly. "But what about Charlie??" 

Justin bit his lip and nodded slowly. "Exactly. Well, long story short, we're done. Fucking finito. He found out last week. Not about the fuck, but just about Brian in general. That I wasn't over him."

             Nessa nodded. "So what now?"

            Justin shrugged his shoulders and held them around his ears. "I don't know! I mean, it took me so long to get over Brian the first time, and even now I'm still not over him. But what am I even gonna do with him? He fucks around, he's totally chemically dependant, non-committal-"

            "Sounds pretty horrible." Nessa nodded. Justin gestured indecisively, not looking Nessa in the eye. Nessa shifted her head around so that she was looking into Justin's eyes. "So, if he's so horrible, how come you haven't been able to stop thinking about him for 3 years?" 

            Justin flumped back onto the floor and heaved a dramatic sigh. Nessa chuckled and took his plate from him, leaving him to stare at the ceiling, deep in thought. 

 

***

*2 DAYS EARLIER*

 

Brian reclined in the brown suede chair in front of Fred Turner's desk. 

            "You wanted to see me, Fred?" he asked nonchalantly. 

            "Yes, Brian. We're thinking of expanding our business across the country.  Naturally, we need people, correspondents in different parts of the country, to report back to the head offices here in New York." 

            "That's fantastic, Fred, but what exactly does that have to do with me?" Brian asked, leaning his elbow on the desk. 

            Fred leaned forward in his chair and looked Brian square in the eye.  "How does San Fransisco sound to you?"

 

***

            Over an hour later, Justin was still lying on the floor staring at the ceiling. Nessa was mildly concerned, but figured that intervening wouldn't make things any better. 

            Justin's mind was flipping through memories of Brian like tv channels. He remembered fucking like animals countless times, and how amazingly consuming it was to be under him, knowing nothing but their bodies. Back then, Brian had seemed like an indestructible, supreme-being who exuded sex. Even though he loved him, Justin still hadn't seen him as a true person, more like a fictional character, whose soul purpose was sex. If someone tried to tell him in those first couple of months that Brian Kinney was a flawed individual, Justin would've laughed in their face. Justin could still remember the moment he realized that Brian was human, that there was more to him than grandiose sex appeal. They had just finished one of their more monumental sexcapades, and Brian had seemingly drifted off to sleep. Usually once the sex had finished, Brian either booted Justin out of the apartment, or got up and showered, or worked at his computer, whatever, but Justin guessed that this particular romp had taken enough out of him that he couldn't help but just fall asleep. Justin was staring at this beautiful man, and wondering how it was that he had come to be welcome, even invited into the bed of this godly man.  Then, the fatigue was more than he could take, so he allowed himself to drift off next to Brian, the appropriate foot of space between them so that Brian couldn't define what they were doing as "cuddling." He'd probably be mad enough when he woke up with Justin lying beside him. Then, just as Justin was drifting off, he felt an arm snake around his waist, and he was pulled into Brian's embrace, pressed against his chest, Brian's nose nesting in his hair.  For a second, Justin wondered if Brian had woken up and was requesting more sex, but the action didn't go beyond Brian holding Justin to him like his life depended on it. Justin looked up, his heart pounding with uncertainty, and Brian's eyes were still closed, his face still relaxed in at least semi-sleep. There was nothing sexual about this. 

It was just Brian holding him. Brian reaching out in his sleep, wanting to feel Justin in his arms. There was a moment of confusion where Justin didn't know what to feel about this, but as he relaxed into Brian's strong arms, he realized this was so much more than sex. For both of them. From that point on, Justin pursued Brian with so much more confidence, because he was sure that Brian didn't let meaningless tricks stay the night, much less spoon them in his sleep. It was what made him creep into Brian's bed the night his father had attacked him. It was the feeling that filled his chest when Brian shotgunned the joint with him in Debbie's back yard, before slinging an arm around his shoulder and looking up at the stars with him. It was what gave him all of that courage, which made him know what he wanted, and go after it. The courage that everyone talked about, that got him through the bashing, through everything...

            _"Your courage, Justin, it's the best part of you."_  

Justin sat up, his breath caught in his chest. Nessa looked over. 

            "I love him." he said simply. 

            "I figured as much" Nessa replied. Justin looked over at her exasperatedly. "What do I do?" he said helplessly. "I've tried to forget about him, I even found someone who loved me, and Brian managed to ruin it just by existing. It's been 3 fucking years, and if I haven't gotten over him yet, I'm never going to!" He flumped back onto the floor. Nessa rolled her eyes. 

            "Ok, well, let's look at the situation. You love him. You two are in the same city, so you've been seeing him, so obviously you can't forget about him, which you tried already but didn't succeed. He basically, not even 3 weeks ago, told you straight out that you were all he thought about, that he wanted nothing more than for you to be happy, and basically indirectly professed his undying love for you. Am I right so far?" Justin nodded.

"So, basically the only way you can be happy is by being with him, correct?" Justin nodded. "So, um, Justin, at this point in the game, what exactly is stopping you?" 

Justin sat back up and furrowed his brow. "I..."

Nessa rolled her eyes yet again and took him by the shoulders. "Justin, do the world a favour. Grow some balls, go over there and stick your tongue down his throat. It's a risk, but if you ask me, it can't be worse than the shit you're going through right now.  Take your time, until you feel ready-" Justin stood up suddenly and, grabbing his coat, rushed to the door. "Or, now's okay too" Nessa said, startled. She heard a rushed "thanksnessa" right before the door slammed. 

 

***

 

"Brian! BRIAN!!!" 

Justin felt like he was a dorky 17-year-old again. Here he was, hammering away on the door of Brian's loft and screaming his name. Ah, deja-vu. This street always gave him deja-vu, which was why he didn't used to like doing shows at the gallery down the street. At the end of the block was the hotel he had stayed in here when he had to come to New York the first time, and Brian had driven all night to track him down. 

            "Alright, I'll call him then, tell him to meet me somewhere." He pulled out his cell phone, only to realize that he didn't have Brian's number. That seemed odd to him. Nonetheless, he started playing connect-the-dots in his head as to how to get his number, and the answer was simple- Debbie. She had insisted upon Justin calling her once a week after he left, and as a result, she was naturally a contact in his phone. He'd gotten a little behind on the calls home, however, in the past few months, and worried a moment about the wrath that awaited him. Sitting on the ground outside Brian's door, he selected the number, and the phone started to ring. On the 3rd ring, he heard the familiar voice. 

            "Debbie Novotny speaking, if you're selling something, I ain't interested." 

Justin smiled. "Deb." 

"SUNSHINE!! Oh, it's so good to hear your voice! Hey, who the fuck do you think you are anyhow? 2 months and no phone call?" 

            "I'm sorry Deb, I've had a lot on my plate the past little while. Listen, I don't have that much time to talk, and I hate to use you like this, but I need you to do me a favour." 

            "Sure, babydoll, anything for my Sunshine, provided you call me first chance you get and tell me everything about everything that's been going on." 

            Justin smiled even wider. "I promise, Deb. I...I need Brian's phone number. Do you have it?" 

            There was silence at the other end of the line. "Wh-why do you need that, sweetheart? Don't tell me you're gonna open that can of worms again, Sunshine." 

            "Deb, the can has long since been opened. Let's just say we've re-established communication over the past couple of months."

            "What about Charlie, honey?" Deb's voice sounded worried. 

            "History, Deb. I just really need the number, don't worry about it, ok?" Justin started getting nervous. Deb wouldn't withhold the number, would she? Justin let out a sigh of relief after a moment when he heard the rustle of an address book on the other end of the line. 

            "Well, I only have his landline. You can have it, but I doubt it'll do much good since he's leaving today." 

            Justin's heart stopped. "Leaving?" 

            "Yeah, sweetie, didn't you hear? He's going to San Fransisco. At least, that's what Michael told me. He talked to Brian yesterday, it's kind of a last-moment thing." 

            Shit shit shit. Justin had to fight the urge to hyperventilate. "Did he say how long he'd be gone?" 

            "Well, it all seemed so cryptic, but it sounded pretty final. He said he needed a change of scenery, but he wouldn't go into detail. Listen sweetie, I know he had a meeting at 3, and it's only 4:30, I doubt he's gone." The line was quiet for a moment. "And I know he always travels through LaGuardia. That's all I'm sayin'."

  "Thanks, Deb, I'll call you soon." Justin hung up and got to his feet, descending the stairs at record time. 


	20. The Airport

  
Author's notes: IT'S HERE!!! This has been bouncing around my head for weeks. Sorry I didn't update sooner, but I hope this tickles your collective fancies.  


* * *

Justin sat at the gate for the soonest flight to San Fransisco, at 8 pm. It didn’t come for two hours. The plan went like this: He’d sit here, waiting until the plane had come and gone and then he’d go and wait by the gate for the next flight. So there he sat, hands shaking, no clue what he was doing. He just knew that at this point, he just didn’t have a choice. After about 20 minutes, he realized that he hadn’t anything except for the few bites of Nessa’s rapini all day. He quickly measured the probability of Brian walking in in the 40 seconds that he had his back turned facing the vending machine, then planned out a route where he could make it all the way to the vending machine still facing the entrance. He’d still be able to see Brian and approach him before Brian saw him, albeit with a bag of cheetos in hand. Five minutes later, his plan proved to be pointless, as he was sitting there with his chips, fruitopia and mentos, and still no sign of Brian. 

“Everything’s to your satisfaction, I trust, Mr. Kinney.” 

Brian glanced at the man with the tie and nametag that read “Keith”. “Yes, thank you, Keith. Is my flight on time?” 

“Yes, Mr. Kinney,” Keith said formally, “The company jet is ready and waiting on the tarmack. Can I take your bags?” 

Brian handed Keith his bags with a small courteous smile, and watched him carry them away. He sat down on one of the plastic seats in the waiting area until 7:20 rolled around and he could board his plane. He was hoping that a change in the landscape and escaping the bitter winter weather may take his mind off a certain mop of blonde hair, and tried his best to ignore the part of his brain that kept saying that it probably wouldn’t. He couldn’t believe he had confessed everything to Justin, everything that went against everything he believed in. And look where it had gotten him. _Congratulations, Brian,_ _you made him cry and now you’ll probably never see him again,_ he thought to himself. He knew deep down he’d never have been able to live with himself if he hadn’t done what he’d done, but part of him wanted to take it back. It was apparent to him that he’d scared Justin off, since he hadn’t seen or heard from Justin in the weeks since that night. _Well, if the kid’s happy, that’s what matters. I gave him his options, and he chose the one that would make him happy. Simple as that._ So, it was time to really try and forget him, impossible as it may have seemed, and if San Fransisco couldn’t help him do that, he didn’t know what could. 

“Mr Kinney, your jet is ready for you, if you just want to follow me…” _Man, I could get used to hearing that_ , he thought, as he followed Keith out onto the tarmack. 

Justin was starting to get equally worried and annoyed. The plane took off in 45 minutes and Brian was nowhere to be found. The flight had started boarding already. He walked over to the enormous window that took up an entire wall, looking out on the planes taking off. He stared at all the workers waving their arms in their flourescent orange vests, and thought, maybe Brian really was gone forever. Maybe he’d finally, thoroughly lost him. Would he ever be able to stop thinking about him? Or would he always have this lurking feeling of something out of balance, something missing-

_Oh fuck._

Justin focused his widening eyes on a tall brunette man, clad in a familiar wool overcoat, walking across the tarmack. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!!” Justin exclaimed, tearing through the lobby and down the stairs. He unceremoniously shoved people out of the way yelling “Fuck fuck fuck Brian! Shit!” ran through the metal detectors, tossing his wallet into the bowl next to it so that he wouldn’t set it off, and ignored the objecting clerk at the desk in the lobby, bursting through the doors onto the tarmack. 

“BRIAN!!” The tall black figure at the other end of the tarmack kept walking; Justin’s cries were drowned out by the engines of planes around him. Halfway, he couldn’t help but stop to take his inhaler, the cold air caught in his chest, and then he kept running. A security guard was running about 50 feet behind him, but the young lithe man easily outran the 6’7” man resembling a giant walrus, even with an asthma attack. The cold stung his eyes as he bellowed Brian’s name. 

Brian started up the steps to the jet, when from behind him he heard a familiar voice saying something that sounded like “MYYYAALLGGHH!!!” Confused, he turned, and saw Justin clad only in a t-shirt and jeans barrelling towards him, being chased by what could have easily been a sumo wrestler in a security uniform. Once Justin realized that he’d fully gotten Brian’s attention, he stopped and doubled over, gasping for air and holding out his arm signalling Brian to stop. Bewildered, Brian rushed over and held him by the shoulders, trying to get a good look at his face. Justin held up a “just wait a second” finger, and pulled out his puffer again, inhaling deeply. _Well, way to look mature,_ _Taylor_ _. Very suave,_ he thought. After a moment, Justin’s breathing steadied a bit. 

“You ok?” Brian said, furrowing his brow incredulously.

“Phew, yeah, I think I’m ok.”

Brian nodded. “Ok, well in that case, mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing? Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get in pulling a stunt like that?” The security guard had stopped about 10 feet short of the couple, realizing that the young man wasn’t dangerous in the least. Brian looked up at him. “Don’t worry, he’s with me, he doesn’t mean any trouble.” He glanced back at Justin, raising his eyebrows. The blonde was still trying to steady his breath.

“I figured sooner or later, someone would come and arrest me,” he said with a small grin, “but I was hoping I’d find you first.” 

Brian suppressed a smile, then looked back to the security guard, still standing nearby with his hands on his hips. “Would you give us a few minutes? _Then_ you can feel free to lock him up.” The security guard nodded, then took a few steps back and averted his gaze matter-of-factly. 

“So, what’s this all about?” 

“I…” Justin didn’t know where to start. Why hadn’t he given any thought to what he was actually going to say? Honesty seemed to be the best policy. “I’m sick of this bullshit!” he exclaimed, shoving Brian lightly. “I’m sick of living with a piece of me missing, feeling something every day so strongly and feeling like shit because it’s supposed to be wrong and maybe, maybe I don’t want it to be wrong anymore, I mean why should it be?” Justin realized he was rambling, and he couldn’t stop, nor did he care to. “Brian, I’ve changed a lot over the past few years, I’ve grown up a lot, faster than most people, but the thing that never changed was that I’m still as over-the-moon, ass-backwards in love with you as when I was that seventeen-year-old kid. And I know you don’t like that word, but just suck it up for a minute because it’s the only one I know that applies. I’m still in love with you, Brian, I never stopped, not for a day, not for a minute. So can we just cut the bullshit, and maybe make being around each other a regular thing, without the guilt and the heartbreak and the open wounds and crap? Can’t we just have sex with each other, and eat with each other, and talk, and get drunk and high together? I mean,” Justin placed his hand lightly on Brian’s chest, “that’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Would that be so fucking complicated?”

Brian had remained silent throughout Justin’s entire rant. Justin couldn’t read the look on his face, beyond a slight crease between his eyes and his bottom lip sucked into his mouth. And he was blinking a lot. Justin didn’t know that Brian felt like he had a golf ball lodged in his throat, that his heart was hammering, and that he hadn’t exhaled for a couple minutes now. “Brian?” Brian still said nothing, but looked deep in thought. Justin started feeling a little panicky. “Ok, Brian, you have to say something now, even if it’s ‘fuck off’, anything’s better than not saying anything, ‘cause what you’re doing right now is killing me, so just-”

Brian swept Justin into the softest and strongest kiss. His lips were gentle, but his body was almost bending Justin backwards, his arms fixed firmly around the young man’s waist. They parted, their lips still slightly touching, and Justin breathed a weak sigh of relief onto Brian’s mouth, before kissing him with twice as much fervor, throwing his arms around Brian’s neck. They kissed warmly, the frigid air around them forgotten. They kissed, trying to make up for 3 years without kisses. After being effectively distracted for what seemed like hours, a small thought jolted Justin back into reality. 

“Brian, you can’t go to San Fransisco, not now.” Justin insisted, hurriedly. 

“I have to, Justin, we’re expanding our business-” Brian started confusedly.

“Can’t you just ask them to send someone else? Or, fuck, switch agencies? Start your own agency! You’d be fantastic!” 

“I think that’d be a little extreme, don’t you?” Brian said, looking at Justin like he’d just sprouted another head. 

“More extreme than dropping everything and leaving for San Fransisco? Brian, please…” Justin was starting to get the panicky feeling in his chest for the eleventeenth time tonight.

“Justin, I think we’ll be ok for three days…” Brian started.

“Yeah, but-what?” Justin stopped dead in his tracks. 

“I think we’ll be ok for the long weekend, I mean we’ve been living apart for 3 years now…” 

Justin’s face broke into a blinding smile. “You’re… going for three days. Just three days, not-not for good?” 

Brian chuckled. “You thought I was leaving New York to move to San Fransisco?”

Justin laughed, putting his hand on his chest. “Oh, my God, I really thought you were leaving forever.” Brian continued to laugh, shaking his head. “Such a drama queen.” 

“Yeah, you love it.” Justin laughed shyly.

Brian smiled, grabbing Justin gently by the back of the head and they shared a playful, smiling kiss which developed until they were entwined with each other, trying to close every distance between them. Justin reached inside Brian’s coat and around his waist, his chilled bare arms seeking warmth. Brian realized in the back of his mind that it was 12 degrees and Justin was wearing just a thin cotton t-shirt, and instinctively pulled the edges of his coat around Justin’s shoulder’s, enveloping him and sharing his body’s warmth. 

The security guard was somewhat uncomfortable. 

They stood in the lounge that Justin had caused a scene in maybe 20 minutes before, standing intimately close to one another but not touching, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. 

“So, do you want me to call you or something when I get there?” 

“Um, yeah, that’d be good, you know, just to make sure you got there safely and everything.” Justin replied, nodding. 

“Ok.” Brian nodded, surpressing a smile. Justin nodded again, then looked at Brian suddenly, eyes wide. “Oh!” 

“What?” 

“Um…”Justin shook his head incredulously. “You don’t have my number.” 

Brian stood, in shock for a moment, then let out a small laugh. “No, I guess I don’t. And you…” 

“…I don’t have yours either.” 

“Well, we should do something about that.” 

They exchanged numbers, snapped their phones shut and put them back in their 

pockets. 

“Well, Sunshine, I gotta fly.” Brian said matter-of-factly, glancing around. 

Justin nodded curtly. “Do it.” 

Brian looked into Justin’s eyes, and smirked. Justin couldn’t help but grin ear-to-ear in the way only he could. Brian cupped the side of his face and kissed him gently and slowly, before pulling back and looking into his eyes again. “Later.” 

“Later,” Justin replied, still smiling. Brian smirked at him as he walked back out the glass doors onto the tarmack, disappearing into the dark. Justin practically skipped up to the second floor to retrieve his coat, then out of the airport, before the thought hit him: What the hell was he gonna do for 3 days on his own? In any other situation, this would be the time when he and Brian would be fucking like bunnies for the whole weekend. Just then, an incessant ringing started from his front pocket. He looked at the call display on his phone and nearly laughed out loud when it read “Brian”. He couldn’t get over how good it felt to read that on his phone. He pressed the green button.   
“What’s up?” 

“Not much, just wanted to check in, see how you were doing.” 

Justin shook his head, chuckling. “I’m pretty spectacular, and yourself?”

“Dazzling, thanks for asking.” 

“…Anything else?” 

“Oh, just wanted to make sure that you weren’t falling apart while I was gone.” 

Justin laughed out loud. “You know, oddly enough, I’m coping.” 

“Thank God for that. You always were a trooper. I gotta go, they’re telling me I have to turn off my phone.” 

“Mmk. Have a good flight.” 

“Later.” 

“Later.” 


	21. Maybe things really don't have to be so angsty...

It may have been the longest three days of Justin’s life. Brian had called when he landed, as promised, and the conversation had been relatively uneventful until Justin mentioned his backache from sleeping on Nessa’s floor, at which Brian paused. 

“Hey, Sunshine, I just remembered, I forgot to water the plants before I left. If I gave you the combination to the apartment’s security system, could you take care of that?” 

Justin frowned. “Doesn’t your cleaning lady take care of that?” 

“Um…no.” 

Justin was baffled for a moment, before realization dawned on him, and he suppressed a huge smile. “Oh, um, sure Brian, don’t even worry about it.” 

Brian grinned on the other end of the line. “Great. Remember to give some extra attention to the ficus in the corner.” 

Justin smiled even wider. “Will do.” 

Sure enough, when Justin got to the loft, there was not a potted plant in sight. He returned a few hours later with a backpack full of amenities and set up camp. He spent some time over the next two days exploring the apartment. When he went to inspect the contents of Brian’s fridge, he had to stifle a nelly outburst of tears. Face down in the cheese compartment was a photo that Justin had never even seen, that Lindsay had mischieviously slipped into Brian’s pocket on the day he left for New York. It was of Justin playing airplane with a baby Gus, both of their faces frozen in laughter. Justin marvelled at this evidence of the enormous heart that he’d always known was beating in Brian’s chest, and also at this evidence of how strange Brian was for choosing the cheese bin as its appropriate resting place. Justin replaced it exactly where it had been, knowing that Brian probably didn’t want him to see that quite yet. A few months later, Justin framed it and put it on Brian’s computer desk, explaining casually “well, it’s getting in the way, and it’ll just get cheese gunk on it if it stays there.” Brian didn’t argue. 

Brian had said he’d be home Sunday evening. Justin had positioned himself in the apartment at 6 pm, the earliest that could constitute as evening. He had attempted to watch T.V., but was far too antsy, so he just absently flipped through magazines that had been flagged with post-its, undoubtedly for Brian’s work. At 9 pm, he heard the door slide open behind him. He tried to collect his excitement and appear calm. He tossed the magazine onto the table and stood up as Brian called out in his best ironic tone “Honey, I’m home.” Justin turned to face him, biting his lip to hide a smile. 

“How’re the houseplants?” Brian deadpanned. 

“Mmph, they all died. I’m a terrible plant-sitter, I should’ve told you. I had to toss them all out.” 

Brian shrugged. “Ah well, they’re replaceable. Though I did havea bit of an attachment to the ficus…” Brian said quite solemnly, running a hand over his face, before dropping it to his side. They both stood at opposite sides of the room, waiting for the other to break the façade. A silent moment passed, and Justin eventually couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth curving up, try as he might. Brian’s mouth smirked wryly, but his eyes gave him away with an adoring stare. Justin eventually broke into a positively glowing smile, and energetically leapt over the couch between them, rushing over to Brian, who let out a chuckle at Justin’s gymnastics. Justin threw himself into Brian’s arms as Brian’s luggage dropped to the ground, both laughing freely now. Justin’s arms snaked around Brian’s neck and Brian’s around Justin’s waist. They kissed in a language that they wouldn’t try to translate to words, which they wouldn’t try to refer to with something as simple as love, which they wouldn’t call home out loud yet because Justin knew that Brian was still learning. But they both knew what it was, that it was pure love, that it was pure home. Brian couldn’t remember his head ever swimming like this when he was cold sober, and Justin couldn’t remember everything ever seeming so easy. They walked backwards, shedding clothing from each other, towards Brian’s bed. Brian undid the buttons of his cuff while kissing Justin’s neck and pushing him gently backwards. 

“When was the last time we actually did this in a bed?” Justin huffed out jokingly, his voice filled with lust and happiness. Brian chuckled against Justin’s skin before shoving him lightly backwards onto the bed, and removing his pants for him. He shuffled out of his own, and climbed on top of Justin, their faces inches apart, searching each other for some sort of proof that this was real. Brian kissed Justin’s lips once, gently and softly, and littered his face with kisses, down across his neck, worshipping this milky skin that had so much power over him, enough to make him unable to resent it. He reveled in its softness, in Justin’s low, needy breathing above him, too concentrated on the act to wonder how it came to be that this was all he wanted to do right now.

After a minute or two of responding to Brian’s ministrations with soft sighs and fingers in Brian’s hair, Justin’s dick was overruling his heart in desperation. 

“Mmm Brian, that’s really nice, but I’ve kind of been anticipating this for three days, so were you planning on getting inside me any time soon?” 

Brian smiled and replied without missing a beat, “I’ve been anticipating this for three years. I think you’ll survive.” Ok, perhaps a bit more than Brian meant to reveal, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less. Nevertheless, within 60 seconds, they were rocking back and forth, truly home in each other. It was much slower than either of them would have anticipated, surrounded by the song of their own heavy breathing into each other’s ears, their faces never more than a few inches away from each other. And this time, Brian knew it was different when he climaxed, because it was the first time he really recognized beauty as a feeling. He knew he was officially in too deep, and it didn’t even occur to him to care. 

Brian rolled off of him, and entwined a hand in the golden hair. Justin looked up into Brian’s eyes, who stared right back, not as scared as he thought he’d be. He wasn’t ready to call Justin his boyfriend yet, but he knew that he would be, one day. Justin was curious, and almost a bit nervous at the affection that Brian was showing that Justin had never seen before. He didn’t want to let himself believe that this was what it was going to be like, because it was all he’d ever wanted, and the only thing worse than never getting it was thinking he’d gotten it, and losing it. Brian noticed that Justin seemed to be searching his face for some explanation. 

“Your hair is…fabulous.” They both laughed softly. “I always liked it.” Justin’s heart skipped yet another beat, before he tried to be casual again, because he knew that’s what Brian wanted. 

“So that’s what attracted you to me all this time? My golden locks?” 

Brian smiled. “Well not just that.” He allowed a sentimental pause, before continuing, “your ass, too.” Justin laughed wryly. 

“Anything else?” 

Brian’s eyes trailed down to Justin’s chest. He didn’t reply, but traced a heart over Justin’s with his pointer finger absently. Justin was overwhelmed, and frustrated himself when he couldn’t stop his eyes from welling up. 

“Oh for fuck’s sakes” he snickered thickly through a fragile, ironic smile, and brought his forearm up to his face to wipe his eyes, sniffing. 

Brian smirked sympathetically and pulled Justin to his chest casually. “Yeah, I know.” He said softly. Envelopped in Brian’s embrace, Justin couldn’t stop the flood gates from opening, and letting out the happiness and the vulnerability that was, at the moment, a bit too overwhelming. 

“Brian…” he whispered shakily, and received a strong squeeze in response. “I know, I know” Brian whispered, swallowing a sudden tenseness in his throat. 

It would be another year before Brian let the l-word slip during the aftermath of one of their more intense fuckfests to date, after Justin won a local art award with a hefty cash prize. And it would be another 3 years after that before Brian mentioned that he “wouldn’t really mind the whole marriage thing if Justin was so set upon the idea”, trying to make it sound casual and off-hand, though his hands were, in reality, shaking. Justin had to ensure himself that his heart didn’t actually stop beating, before he was composed enough to reply nonchalantly, “yeah, I’d be ok with that. I mean, if you’re ok with that. But don’t think of us as engaged or anything, because we won’t be engaged until you grow the balls to get down on one knee and ask me properly, with a ring and everything, asshole. But I’m just letting you know now, when you do, I’ll say yes. Probably.” 

“Probably?” 

“Well, there has to be some element of surprise or risk to it.” 

And in the time in between, they did everything they said they’d do. They hung out, they talked, they fucked, they drank and they smoked pot. And it was more than they’d ever dreamed of. 


	22. Hanging out...

“That’s so fucking unfair and you know it.” 

Justin sulked behind Brian as they bustled through the apartment door, laden with bags of groceries. Justin was sick and tired of being Brian’s bitch.

“What’s unfair? It’s my apartment, my money, my fridge. I should say what goes into it.” He started unloading fruit and veggies into their separate bins, and removed two bottles of water, handing one to Justin and popping the cap to another, squirting the water into his mouth. 

“Yeah, but I mean, if I sleep here and eat here, and carry and unpack groceries here, I should get some say as to what’s in your fridge. And I offered to _pay_ for it, so there’s really no excuse. It’s not as if your cheese bin is particularly stuffed to the point where you don’t have available room.” Brian flinched slightly at the mention of the cheese bin. He wasn’t quite sure if Justin had found the picture or not, but he certainly wasn’t looking forward to any acknowledgement of it regardless. 

“The money’s not the issue. It’s my fridge and I will not have it sullied by double-crème brie. If you want it that bad, you can find somewhere else to put it. Now will you stop sulking?” Brian snapped. Justin said nothing, but stood there, his arms crossed and a look on his face that couldn’t possibly be defined as anything else but sulking. Brian rolled his eyes. They unpacked the groceries in tense silence. Justin was feeling more and more like a baby every second, but didn’t know how to go about giving up on the sulkfest. Frankly, he didn’t care that much about the cheese. He was about to let it go, when Brian decided to try his own way of breaking the silence. 

“You’re behaving like a petulant child, Justin” he said, looking Justin in the eye. Within seconds, he regretted it. He turned back to stacking the cupboards nervously, avoiding Justin’s gaze. Then, Justin retaliated in the only logical way he knew how. 

 

He squirted Brian in the face with his water bottle.

 

 

The silence that followed was one of the most intense and terrifying ones of Justin’s life. Brian looked at him, piercingly, a fire burning behind his eyes, and Justin could swear he felt his face melting. He tried his best to stare right back confidently, without completely cowering in fear. Finally, with one of the gravest looks on his face that Justin had ever seen, Brian took a couple of slow steps towards Justin. The menacing look shifted to one of raw desire, and he slowly but firmly pulled Justin to him with his free hand, breathing into Justin’s face, his mouth hanging half-open. Justin was no match for Brian’s seductive powers, and was on the verge of trembling in anticipation of Brian’s next move. Brian slowly moved his lips towards Justin’s, reaching his other hand around Justin’s back and over his head…

And dumped half the contents of his water bottle on Justin’s head. 

“SHIT!! FUCKER!” Justin jumped back, as Brian laughed triumphantly before receiving a hefty, cold squirt in the face, which partially went up his nose. Justin ran off, around the couch, using it as a makeshift barricade against Brian’s waterbottle. Brian ran and leapt over the couch, drenching Justin in filtered mineral water imported from the Swiss Alps, at $3 a bottle. Justin blindly retaliated, shielding his face. Once Brian’s bottle ran out, he tackled Justin onto the sofa, knocking his bottle out of his hands, both men laughing uncontrollably and dripping onto Brian’s Mies Van De Rohe couch. Their laughter subsided, and they looked into each other’s eyes. After a mushy, sentimental moment, Brian noticed that Justin’s left eye was twitching so that it looked like Justin was chronically winking at him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with your eye?” Brian inquired. Justin squinched up his face. 

“There’s water dripping into it.” Brian sighed, and hoisted himself up off of Justin and padded off to the bathroom. Justin stared bewilderedly at his retreating form. 

“Brian?” he called after him, getting up from the couch. Brian returned, wielding a fluffy tan towel, and shoved it into Justin’s face, tursely rubbing off the dripping water, which merited a chuckling “mmph” from Justin, and Brian couldn’t help but smile. He finished drying Justin off and slung the towel around his neck, standing chest-to-chest with his lover. Justin looked up at him adoringly. 

“I don’t give a shit about the cheese” Justin purred, as if it were the most romantic love sonnet ever written. Brian smirked.

“Well, whatever. The only reason I didn’t want you to get it is because then I’d be too tempted to eat the whole fuckin’ thing.” Justin huffed out a laugh, and they shared a smile. Justin cleared his throat, then deadpanned, “Well, we’ve got to get you out of these soaking clothes, you’ll catch pneumonia.” He peeled Brian’s wet shirt off of his body. 

“Oh, heaven forbid” Brian retorted, his face plastered in a wicked grin.


	23. Having sex...

  
Author's notes: ok, so my plan is to make spinoff chapters based on the whole "hang out with each other, and have sex with each other, and talk to each other, and get drunk and high together..." spiel. So, here's the one you guys will probably be anticipating most, though it's much more mushy than you might expect. Enjoy.   


* * *

"Brian!" Justin called out as he slid the door shut behind him, juggling 4 canvases and a bag full of latex paints. He started taking off his jacket, and bag, and placing the objects in his hands in their appropriate places in the apartment. "I was thinking, we could head down to Seven. I haven't been there in ages..." Justin wandered around the apartment. "...and apparently the new go-go boys they have are ridiculously hot...Brian?" There was no reply. Justin saw a flashing light on Brian's answering machine. He figured it might be a message from Brian telling Justin where he was or what the plans were. He clicked the "play" button. 

" _You have no new messages_." the electronic voice said. Justin rolled his eyes. "then why the fuck were you flashing, you stupid machine?" Justin muttered at the contraption.

_"First old message. Friday, 5:11 pm."_ That was an hour ago, Justin thought. So Brian had been home.  

_"Brian, it's Claire. *sniff* We haven't heard from you in ages. *sniffle* I know this probably doesn't concern you or anything considering how little you seem to...to...*sniff* care about your family, but Mom...Mom died yesterday, Brian. Thought I should let you know. She's been sick for a while, but I didn't tell you because...because I didn't think you'd be particularly concerned, and the only thing I could see you doing about it is running to Mom and telling her all about your disgusting lifestyle, and I couldn't have you upsetting her and disappointing her like that when she was so *sniffle* f-fragile. The funeral's on Sunday, if you're interested, though nobody really expects you to be."_ *Click*

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God. Justin's stomach was tying itself in knots. And in that moment, something told Justin that Brian really was there. He walked tentatively to the bedroom. 

"Brian?" Brian was lying on the bed, on his side, fully clothed. His arm was stretched out towards Justin's side of the bed, and there was a vacant expression on his face. Justin felt a burning behind his eyes, seeing Brian look so defeated. He gently laid down next to him, taking the outstretched hand in his. He searched Brian's face for some recognition of his presence, but none came. Justin kissed his hand, and felt Brian squeeze it slightly. Ok. 

"Do you want me to go with you?" Justin asked quietly. Brian didn't respond. "...to the funeral?" Brian still wasn't looking Justin in the eye.

"I'm not going to her fucking funeral." 

Justin nodded. Then he spoke quietly and carefully. "You know, when my Grampa died about a year ago, everything felt...not quite right. We weren't all that close, but everywhere I went, it was all I could think about...that he was gone, that there was a body in a morgue somewhere that used to be him...I couldn't shake it for days, I wasn't even sad, or missing him, it was just unsettling. It was so unsettling that I couldn't even imagine going to the funeral, I thought it would be too strange...But I did, and when I saw him buried in the ground, that weird feeling just went away, and everything felt clean, and finished, over and done with. And I always wondered, if I would've felt that way forever if I hadn't gone. But I mean, that was me. And this is you." Justin put a hand on Brian's chest. "Brian..." Brian didn't respond. "Brian, I need you to do something for me." Brian looked into Justin's eyes suddenly. Justin took a deep breath. "I need you to forget about what Claire says. She doesn't know shit. She can judge all she fuckin' wants, but it doesn't mean a fucking thing. 'Cause no one's ever, ever gonna love her like I love you. Never. Her lifestyle is what's disgusting. Not this. Never this." Justin watched silently as Brian clenched and unclenched his jaw. After a moment, Justin saw Brian nod slightly. He slid closer to Brian and kissed him softly. Brian's arms encircled Justin in a bone-crushing hold, and the kiss heightened in passion. As Justin ran his fingers across Brian's face, he felt wet eyelashes and dried tears, and his heart broke for him. 

    Brian let out a quiet groan as their tongues danced and he ran a hand through Justin's hair. Justin was what kept him safe. He knew it. He had come to the point where Justin was his first thought when he heard about his Mom. He needed him just then, and the time before he got home was so much more painful because he wasn't there. In the kiss, he thanked God for Justin, and it was the first time he'd thanked God for anything in his life. He wanted a way to ask Justin to stay, and never leave, to go on protecting him the way he was, and to know how much he trusted him, and how dangerous that felt for him.  

   Brian reached for the condom and lube once he felt Justin hardening against his hip. Their clothes long since disappeared, Brian pressed the condom firmly into Justin's hand. Justin hesitated, and assumed that he'd misread the signal completely. He moved his hand to roll the condom onto Brian, when Brian moved his hand back over Justin's shaft. Oh holy Jesus, thought Justin. He really wants to do this. Never breaking the kiss, he rolled the condom on himself, and covered his fingers in lube. As he started to prepare Brian, Brian whimpered quietly into Justin's mouth, and Justin thought it might have been the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. As a silent signal, Brian rolled onto his back. Justin trailed his kisses across Brian's jaw, down his neck and across his shoulders, and positioned himself at Brian's entrance. Brian pushed back against him, and Justin took a deep breath and eased himself in. Brian let out a gentle but passionate moan. Ok, thought Justin, THAT was definitely the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. He let Brian adjust, since he knew that Brian didn't do this too often. God, Justin wondered, when _was_ the last time Brian did this? Now was probably not the best time to ask. He started a slow and steady rhythm, and had Brian panting and pushing back against him. Justin couldn't believe how right this felt. He rested his head between Brian's shoulder blades and gasped his name. Brian responded with a moan and a gasp. As Justin's breath hitched, Brian reached back, grabbed Justin's thigh and said "Oh God, _Justin_ " with a laboured groan. He'd dreamed about having Justin inside him for so long. Even when they'd first met, it was a little dirty fantasy in the back of his mind. But it wasn't a fantasy anymore and there was nothing dirty about this. Justin was right. This was what was right. He heard Justin whisper a breathy "Brian...love you..." and he wished he could tell him how much he meant to him. Those words were enough to enduce Brian's orgasm, and with a loud cry he bucked back onto Justin, who came following him, with his arms around Brian's waist. They fell back onto the bed. Justin rested his head on Brian's chest to let him know that he still belonged to Brian. He laid a few gentle, heavy kisses on his collarbone and neck while they gathered their breath and their thoughts in silence. 

     "If you decide to go, I'll go with you." Justin said softly. Brian nodded and kissed Justin's forehead, a much more affectionate gesture than Justin had come to expect from him. Justin pulled the comforter up over both of them, and they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.  


End file.
